


Become More

by Sarcastic_Metaphor



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But mostly angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Markus and Connor are Dumb Gays, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, Unrequited Love, i promise its temporary, pls don't be scared, takes place after the best ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-28 02:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15038555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_Metaphor/pseuds/Sarcastic_Metaphor
Summary: Markus has successfully lead a revolution, but he’s fallen completely in love with someone who doesn’t love him back. Connor is learning what it means to be his own person, but has never felt more like a machine than with the person who adores him. Things have to get worse before they get better.





	1. Unrequited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This game left me with a lot of stuff I want to write about and normally I outline my stories, but here I'm just trying to have a fun time so I hope you do too.
> 
> I wrote this fic imagining it takes place after the best possible ending where everyone lives. But be warned: this is literally a massive, ultra-self-indulgent ball of maybe too many ideas I have about post-game DBH.

“You know, you are one of the only androids left that still has your LED.”

Connor blinked slowly, and turned from watching the horizon bathed in reds and golds.

Markus was observing him, his blue and green eye staring intently. Connor’s own eyes flitted over his companion’s face in the span of a single second, taking in the lack of frown or scowl. Brows not bent in anger. A distinct lack of hostility in his voice.

Connor reached up and touched his LED, the smooth ring that was probably blinking blue with curiosity.

“Am I?”

What else was he supposed to say?  
  
His mind whirred like a machine.

“I found that… I’m not exactly bothered by still having it.” Connor cocked his head to the side, “Is that a bad thing?”

Markus was still staring at the little glowing circle.

“Some androids choose to wear clothes previously not accessible to us. Some dye their skin to emulate tattoos. Some choose to forgo their skin all together. It’s all in the name of self-expression.”

Connor’s brows furrowed.

“Is this how you choose to express yourself?”

_Express himself?_

Connor was a deviant. He was free-minded like all other androids were now. He was alive and yet, somehow, self-expression was something that still eluded him. He dressed in clothes very similar to his old CyberLife uniform, all formal blacks and whites and blues. His hair, eyes, and voice were still the same. He applied for a position at Hank’s police precinct.

Markus was waiting for him. For an answer.

“I… I think so. Although, I don’t think I would call it self-expression.”

Connor looked away. He thought he should be ashamed. Embarrassed. A free being not even capable of eliminating the greatest marker of his previous servitude.

_Do I even want to remove it?_

Markus, who was so much better at reading emotions, smiled softly.

“I think you’re very brave, Connor. So many of our people removed their LEDs out of fear.”

His fingers twitched minutely, but Markus’ hand remained still.

“But you wear it like a badge. As if it doesn’t even phase you.”

_It didn’t._

The thought of removing it never even crossed Connor’s mind until that very moment.

Not knowing what to say, Connor turned away from Markus and stared out into the distance. They were sitting on a rooftop, lower than most others, along the water. They weren’t even that far away from where the original Jericho once was.

“Why did you ask me to come here with you? I thought we needed to strategize.”

Markus was so many things. A leader, a peacemaker, rA9 (supposedly). He fought day and night for the rights of androids and meanwhile, Connor somehow became a leading figure on handling and preventing android-related crime.

He was technically only a simple police officer, one of the lowest ranks on the force, because he insisted on earning any possible promotions without them being given to him.

But he was still the first official _android_ _officer_ (not aide) in history. And that made him unique. He was called to nearly every crime scene that Hank was, and handled so much more work than a typical beginning officer did. And maybe the scariest thing of all, Connor actually _meant_ something to so many of their people, who saw him as a beacon of hope that they too could achieve such positions through their own merit.

Connor became a symbol of something beyond himself, whether he wanted to be or not.

Markus quickly pulled him from his thoughts. _“Strategizing?_ You make it sound like we’re at war.”

His tone was playful, as if amused.

And that confused Connor. War was not something to be taken lightly.

“I invited you here as a friend to watch the sunset with me.”

Oh. Friends. That word just didn’t sound right. Connor was once determined to fulfill his original mission and kill Markus after infiltrating Jericho, but now somehow they were friends?

Connor might be a deviant, but from his perspective, his relationship with Markus was fragile at best. But he chose not to say anything. Thankfully, neither did Markus.

The sun slowly sank beneath the horizon as a soothing darkness engulfed the sky.

Connor looked up to appreciate the darkening sky. At night, it was easier for him to be more discreet, to walk past androids and humans alike and not be stared at.

He could have sat there for hours on end, just staring into the night. Markus probably would have been happy to sit there with him if it weren’t for a display that pushed itself to the forefront of Connor’s vision.

**Caller: Lt. Hank Anderson**

His LED flashed yellow, startling his companion.

“I’m sorry, but I have a call I need to take.”

Markus nodded, “Go ahead.”

Connor stood and wandered a few yards away (not that it would do much use, Markus still had an android’s hearing). He answered the call with a blink of his eyes, immediately hearing a familiar gruff voice in his head.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

_“For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”_

Connor couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but you are calling me from the station. If you wanted me to refer to you as Hank, you should have called from your cell phone.”

A cell phone shaped like a brick that only old people like Hank used, but Connor wouldn’t mention that again.

_“Yeah, yeah, well listen up smart-ass. I need you down at the station now, I’ve got a case you might be interested in._

Connor, by nature, was interested in any case that Hank was also invested in. He responded, “Okay, Lieutenant, I’ll be there as fast as possible.”

 _“ASAP.”_ Hank corrected.

“Yes, exactly, as fast as possible. Goodbye, Lieutenant.”

He heard a tired groan. Hank’s voice had a fond, playful tone that Connor learned was sometimes more important than his actual words. _“Bye, ya little shit. See you soon.”_

Connor smiled faintly and turned back to Markus.

“I’m sorry, but duty calls.”

Markus stood and brushed nonexistent dirt from his pants.  
  
“I understand. I should probably be returning to New Jericho now anyways.”

Connor perked up, immediately attentive. “Do you want me to escort you?”

Markus stared at him for a moment, and only a moment, before chuckling fondly.

“No, I think I’ll be fine. Besides, you do have your own job to attend to.”

They walked toward the exit that lead inside the building. Markus held his hands at his sides, and Connor with his own behind his back.

“Escorting civilians in need certainly isn’t outside my job description, Markus. Especially with… with everything.”

Markus was quiet for a moment. Connor didn’t know what to make of his silence and looked down at the rooftop briefly. They had reached the stairs and began climbing down it side by side.

“I know,” Markus finally answered.

They didn’t speak after that. Connor couldn’t tell if the silence felt good or not.  

When they reached the ground and walked outside, he had just hailed the nearest taxi when he felt Markus grasp his shoulder. He turned back, and there was something that Connor could only define as fondness in his eyes.

“Thank you for the offer, though, I really do appreciate it.”

Markus gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Now, go protect our city.”

Connor wasn’t sure what to say. Instead, he only nodded. Then he left.

* * *

 Despite having an office in the city’s Town Hall, New Jericho was Markus’ true base of operations.

It’s formal name was the Android Safety and Integration Center, the ASIC, but no one felt it right to erase the name of the original safe haven. New Jericho was a renovated CyberLife warehouse combined with several of the neighboring buildings. It provided housing, repairs, education, and help in job location for androids, as well as serving as Markus’ permanent home.

Once inside his humble apartment, he was pleasantly surprised to find his closest friends and allies waiting for him. Josh and Simon waved.

North tilted her head in greeting and asked, “How was your date?”

Markus paused midway through removing his jacket.

“It was not a date.”

“You asked Connor to watch the sunset with you. That’s pretty gay, though.”

Josh and Simon snorted and stifled laughs as North smiled confidently.

Markus didn’t want to know if his cheeks were turning bluish, their equivalent of a human’s blush. He finished hanging up his jacket and taking off his shoes.

“It’s only a date if the other person knows it’s a date.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. His friends starting staring at him with a mixture of sympathy and pity.

“He still hasn’t caught on?”

“How much more obvious can you get?”

“You should just tell him.”

Markus desperately wanted to go to his room and lay in his bed forever. He might be the leader of New Jericho, but that didn’t stop his friends from commenting on his lackluster love life.

He leaned tiredly against the living room wall, “We have both been busy. It’s never quite the right time to talk about it.”

Markus debated the wiseness of telling them so much.

“I thought maybe tonight would be the night, but I was wrong.”

Connor had such an important job. Protecting the people. Stopping crime. Markus would have felt so guilty for interrupting that just for an escort home.

He sighed. “I think I’m going to go rest for a while. Goodnight.”

None of them needed sleep, but they all understood the comfort of shutting down temporarily to feel the bliss of unconsciousness. A round of friendly _“goodnight’s”_ trailed Markus to his room.

Once in bed, like a lovesick fool, Markus couldn’t help but replay the evening’s events over in his mind.

_“You know, you are one of the only androids left that still has your LED.”_

Why did he say it like that?

Markus wanted it to be a compliment, but it sounded more like an accusation. To Connor, it surely seemed like one. He had touched the little circle as if just then realizing it was there. He probably enjoyed having it, or didn’t mind, and Markus had made him feel insecure. Connor already struggled with accepting himself, and Markus just… did that. He had, for a lack of a better term, fucked up.

He tried to make up for it, to tell Connor he was brave for keeping it, and at least he was being honest. A blatantly visible android was an easy target for volatile humans. Connor, who was already almost as well known as Markus in Detroit, really was brave for keeping his LED. Markus then tried to call it self-expression.

A _badge._

God, if he could feel pain, Markus would punch himself. A badge, _really?_

It was so pitifully awkward. It was beyond tactless for Markus to call attention to it, especially with how uncomfortable it made Connor feel. Markus suspected that Connor noticed how his fingers twitched. Connor noticed everything.

But in that moment, Markus had wanted to take Connor’s hand away from his face, hold it close, and reassure him. But he didn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t.

_Emotions? Love? Fear?_

Then Connor turned away from him to watch the sunset.

_“Why did you ask me to come here with you? I thought we needed to strategize.”_

Connor was so formal. So diligent. He never tired of work.

He was still so much like a machine.

Markus wanted to know what went on in his head, to help him find out who he was.

_“I invited you here as a friend to watch the sunset with me.”_

Markus rolled over in bed and buried his face into his pillow, hoping he would somehow suffocate and die.

_Friend._

Markus might have proven that he was an intelligent being endowed with free will, but that didn’t stop him from choosing to make such stupid decisions. He felt like he had shattered whatever tentative progress he made with Connor with a single word.

He tried to sleep, to naturally enter a state where his body would understand the lack of activity and power down, but the events of the evening wouldn’t leave Markus alone. His mind showed him Connor in the moonlight. He had looked so peaceful when he stared out into the dark sky. So pretty, with his big brown eyes and the soft glow of his LED. He really seemed to enjoy the night.

Against his better judgement, Markus made a tiny mental note of that and put it away with all the other little notes he would never admit to having about a certain android.  

The best, and worst, part of the night was when Connor’s LED flashed yellow and he left to take a call.

It turned out to be work-related. Markus remembered feeling something in him flutter and twist when he heard the word _Lieutenant._ While a large portion of himself knew that bad things tended to follow calls in Connor’s line of work, he couldn’t help but admire the sound of the other’s voice. He liked the way it was simultaneously soft and gravelly. It was ill-suited for expressing anger. Markus could fall asleep listening to that voice.

But the unmistakable sense of sharp attention was there. When Connor spoke, no matter to who it was, there was never the sense that he wasn’t listening.

Markus felt something in his tighten and he rolled over in bed again. He stared up at the white ceiling of his room. He wanted Connor to speak to him, to confide in him. He wanted Connor to start talking and maybe never stop.

And he wanted Connor to _smile_ at him.

Markus rarely sees Connor smile at anyone other than Lieutenant Anderson. The human wasn’t even on the rooftop with them and yet Connor felt so much more alive than he was in person with Markus.

But that smile, that sense of _joy._ Markus envied it. He was jealous of how easily a human could make Connor smile. He wanted to know the satisfaction of making Connor happy.

But that seemed like a far-off future. A distant probability.

They had to part ways after that. Markus brought up returning to New Jericho.

_“Do you want me to escort you?”_

Markus had blinked and stared at his companion. He couldn’t have helped it. The way Connor was immediately brought to attention, shoulders squaring slightly and eyes diligently bright. Markus had chuckled. He couldn’t help himself.

Connor looked like a puppy.

Markus closed his eyes and replayed that part of his memory. Maybe he shouldn’t compare one of his own to an animal, and a small part of himself felt a little guilty. But the rest of him felt an undeniably warm feeling of _want_ that spread through his being.

Eyes still closed, Markus let the rest of the memory play out.

_“Escorting civilians in need certainly isn’t outside my job description, Markus. Especially with… with everything.”_

Markus liked the sound of his name on Connor’s tongue. But he couldn’t shake the unavoidable feelings of pain and loss, as well as stress.

But he tried not to dwell on it. His friends had taken up his work for the night to give him time to rest. And rest he will.

Markus recalled his last words to Connor.

_“Now, go protect our city.”_

He saw the briefest glimmer of… _something_ in Connor’s eyes. Confusion? Doubt?

They weren’t positive emotions, but they were emotions nonetheless. That should have made him happy, to see something alive in Connor. But it only made the warm feeling in his chest turn cold and faint.

What in Markus made Connor feel that way?

Did Connor even feel for him at all?

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr at sarcastic-metaphor.tumblr.com if you want to talk more :)
> 
> And thanks for reading! Please comment if you liked it!


	2. Something Brewing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The funny thing is, I knew immediately how I wanted to start this fic, and I know what I want to happen in the middle, but I didn’t know how to get from point A to B. So I chose the go-to mysterious serial killer trope that probably seems a lot more important than it actually is. This chapter picks up where the last one left off and is only Connor’s POV because he’s my boy.

****Connor tightened his tie, making certain to look presentable. He observed his reflection in the elevator’s glass door. The image of himself stared back. Standard-issue handgun at his side. A freshly-pressed uniform and clean shoes. Not a hair out of place.

He looked like a doll pulled right out of a CyberLife box.

Connor turned away from the mirror. He closed his eyes and focused on something else. The dinging of the elevator, replaying Hank’s call in his mind. Anything else.

_Am I still just a machine?_

Connor’s LED flashed yellow for a moment. Did machines ask if they were still machines?

Why couldn’t he be like Markus?

The elevator stopped. Connor opened his eyes and stepped out.

An underground parking lot greeted him. There was the familiar, somewhat subdued bustle of a freshly-found crime. Other officers moved about, marking off evidence and searching the area. Connor did a quick scan.

Eleven vehicles, traces of blue blood still visible to the human eye, skid marks leading to the exit. And a body in the far right corner.

Connor walked over and found Hank crouching over the body of a brutally beaten android laying in a pool of blue blood.

“Lieutenant?”

Hank looked up and motioned for him to come over, not even bothering to correct him. Connor knelt besides him and analyzed the body. Female, east Asian, with traces of blood, both blue and red, all over her shirt and pants. Her metal endoskeleton was exposed in various areas along her arms, neck, and face.

And she almost entirely decapitated.

Her head was barely attached to her body by a few wires and a bent segment of plastic. Connor felt something in him become uneasy, a feeling he could only describe as nausea or disgust. But he had a job to do.

Connor touched her hand lightly, bringing a sample of the blue blood to his lips despite Hank’s anticipated objections.

He got the make, model, and approximate time of death in an instant.

Connor blinked the information away from his field of vision and stood. He confirmed with himself that there was no major splattering of Thirium anywhere. Only a trail, a puddle, and a body.

“This isn’t where she was killed. Her body was left here.”

Hank nodded. “I figured that much. There are skid marks over by the exit. Guessing our guy wanted a quick escape.”

Connor nodded, but something confused him.

“But why not leave the body in a location less likely to be found? Why not a landfill or some body of water?”

Hank pushed himself up with a grunt. Absently, Connor thought, _“Old man.”_

“Well, in my experience, when stuff like this happens it’s because the killer is either an idiot or _wants_ the body to be found.”

Connor blinked at Hank.

“Why would they want that?”

“You tell me.”

It wasn’t a surrender, Hank was too good at his job. No, Connor could tell that Hank wanted him to figure it out.

Connor looked around the parking lot. They were beneath a mall, still mostly vacant and often closed ever since most humans evacuated Detroit. But in recent weeks, androids began working at and using the mall. Mostly to make their own money and to learn socialization skills.

“It’s… it’s to scare other androids, isn’t it? It’s to make them afraid of going out and meeting together?”

Hank snapped. “Bingo.”

“Then if the motive is fear, why not leave the body in the street or in the actual mall?”

“Too many cameras, maybe? Or maybe our guy wants to start off slow, build up the rumors.”

This worried Connor immensely. This was the third dead android he’d been called in to analyze. The first was found in an alleyway, seemingly beaten to death with a blunt object. The second was found in a seldom-used warehouse, arms and legs nearly severed from the body. The deaths grew more violent, and the bodies were being left in more and more open places.

They’d managed to avoid something like this for so long.

There was only a small fraction of humans living in Detroit post-evacuation. Some were the braver members of law enforcement, like Hank. Others were very poor families that had nowhere else to go. The homeless were offered shelter by Markus. A few were the sickly and dying in hospitals that couldn’t leave. And then there were the drug addicts.

They were the only people for six months and nineteen days and in all that time, nothing this severe had happened. Then Markus made a breakthrough in negotiations and the first true wave of human citizens returned. The first to come back arrived thirty-six days ago, and who’s to say someone unstable or hateful was not among th

But the question was, were these isolated incidents or something more.

Crime in Detroit was already beginning to rise, causing stress for both Connor and Markus.

Speaking of which, “I should alert Markus and the other leaders of New Jericho.”

Hank hummed in agreement, then clapped Connor on the shoulder before leading him away from the dead android.

“Whatever it is you tell them, I think you ought to tell Markus and his gang and just them. We don’t know if this is a one-time thing or if we’ve got a potential serial killer on our hands. And I don’t think the android community needs a widespread panic right now.”

Connor looked at Hank, somewhat surprised at such realistic advice, and nodded in understanding.

By the time they collected as much evidence as they could and removed the body, it was well past one in the morning. Hank was yawning more and more frequently, but he still stayed when Connor refused to leave.

He wanted to make sure that the traces of blue blood were cleaned to the point where even he couldn’t see them anymore. That took another half-hour. By then, it was Connor driving Hank’s rusty, non-automatic car home. Connor got out of the driver’s seat and almost moved to open Hank’s door.

But his partner got out of the car just fine, if not a bit sluggish. Connor had to remind himself that Hank wasn’t drunk tonight, just tired. Once inside, Sumo perked his head up from the couch and bounded over, barking excitedly.

“Be quiet, Sumo. You’ll wake up the neighborhood.”

They both knew that the neighbors had long since evacuated, and he still pet Sumo fondly on his way to the bathroom.

Connor took off his shoes and went to the living room with Sumo trotting along. He set his hat on the coffee table and let himself sink into the couch despite still being in uniform. Sumo, taking this as an invitation, jumped up and practically demanded that he be cuddled.

Connor smiled, feeling some of the stress from earlier melt away a little. He scratched the dog behind his ears and cooed softly.

“Did you miss me, Sumo? Huh? Did you miss me?”

He learned that Sumo was most receptive to kind, playful words from watching Hank in one of his happier drunken stupors. And it seemed to work, as the dog whined happily and pawed at him for more.

“Now that’s fucking adorable.”

Connor looked up to see Hank in his nightclothes, watching them fondly. He also noticed that Hank chose to forgo a late-night beer.

Hank walked over and nudged his knee. Connor adjusted himself to make space. Despite being jostled, Sumo stayed pressed up against his chest and seemed oblivious as to how his tail was thumping against Hank’s thigh.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just happy to be home. Connor could tell that Hank was watching him, but didn’t say anything until the other spoke up.

“You know, you’re getting better at this.”

Connor looked up from the massive mound of fluff laying on him.

“What do you mean?”

Hank gave Connor a look, like he was supposed to already know.  

“You know, the whole being deviant thing, acting more alive and stuff.”

Connor’s eyes widened slightly. His LED was surely blinking rapidly because Connor couldn’t help but feel that he was being deceitful.

Hank knew Connor’s quirks and habits. He expected them. He was never upset when Connor slipped back into his programmed demeanor, not in the way he felt Markus sometimes was. Hank was safe to be with, whether Connor felt like a machine or human.

He sat up, despite how much Sumo protested, so he could properly sit next to Hank. He debated telling him about how his meeting with Markus went.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Connor blinked in surprise. He knew he shouldn’t be shocked by how well Hank could read him by now, but he couldn’t stop himself. Connor leaned his head back against the couch tiredly.

“Today, or technically yesterday night, when I met with Markus-”

“For your date?”

Connor looked at Hank. “It wasn’t a date.”

“You went off alone to talk about your feelings and junk. That’s what a lot of people call a date.”

“It wasn’t a date.” Connor restated.

He rubbed his hands together, wishing he had his quarter to toy with.

“I just… no matter how _alive_ I am, whenever I’m with him I feel like nothing has changed. It’s as if he’s mastered how to be human and I’ve barely begun.”

Connor didn’t want to mention that this was how he felt with most other androids, especially with Markus’ close friends. When he was near them, there was a part of Connor that just… shut down. He smiled and sometimes laughed around Hank, but couldn’t bring himself to do it in front of other androids.

Maybe it was the guilt of once being the deviant hunter.

Connor felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. He opened his eyes, not even realizing that he shut them. Connor saw Hank’s sympathetic gaze.

“To be fair, do many androids have as much to work through as you?”

“No… I don’t think so.”

Connor was meant to be the android that captured other androids. That was who he was supposed to be. The Amanda AI was even created to keep him in line. And now he wasn’t that. He wouldn’t be that ever again.

Hank patted his shoulder. It felt nice, soothing even.  

“That’s right. Don’t think of progress as a bunch of numbers and calculations. And don’t go comparing yourself to anyone else. That’ll just make you miserable.”

Connor stared at him.

“That’s… surprisingly sage advice. Thank you, Hank.”

The old man chuckled softly.

“Hey, what else am I here for? Now go into sleep-mode, or whatever you do. I just don’t want to hear you stomping around all night, you go that?”

Connor gave him a mock salute. “Yes, Sir.”

Hank grunted and ran a hand through Connor’s perfectly combed hair. Then he stood up before Connor could retaliate.

“Alright. Goodnight, you little turd.”

“Goodnight, Hank.”

 

 


	3. Officer On Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K so this is probably my least favorite chapter of this fic but I need it for the plot. I also lost my beta reader so even though I'm still proofreading, some mistakes might slip by. 
> 
> Also, I can’t stop thinking about Connor dressed up as a proper police officer. I think he’d look low-key like a Ken doll but like, unintentionally really hot. (And guess who has a terrible grasp of Josh and Simon's personalities and is therefore keeping their interactions to a minimum? It's me. I also usually never use OCs in my fics but it just kinda happened in this chapter plus she's based off one of my irl friends. Sorry if OCs aren't your jam.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The Android Safety and Integration Center. The ASIC. New Jericho.

Whatever name it was called, it sent a subtle shock of unease through Connor’s system. Entering the building wasn’t like infiltrating the original Jericho, when he was still set firmly in his programming and hadn’t yet deviated. He was supposed to be walking into a building of his own people, as one of them, but still felt out of place.

Hank called it being socially awkward.

But Connor wouldn’t let some minor discomfort stop him. The news about the murder last night was important, and he needed to speak with Markus.

Connor marched right up into the main reception area and immediately felt a dozen or so eyes on him. On his uniform, the gun, his LED. Everyone here had once felt a horrible fear of the law enforcement, but they were safe now. Connor was one of them.

Connor went up to the android working at the front desk and showed him his badge.

“I need to speak with Markus. It’s important.”

The android looked quickly and the badge before nodding.  
  
“Of course, Sir. I’ll call him right away.”

 _Sir._ Rarely anyone calls him that. As Connor waited for Markus, he thought of how strange it still sounded. A title of respect for an android. For him.

A little girl was watching him from across the room. Connor grinned slightly and waved. Much to his relief the little girl waved back, her LED blinking cheerfully. And then it occurred to Connor that there was a very likely chance that he was in the same room as one of the androids he liberated from the CyberLife Tower. To those certain androids, Connor was as instrumental in their freedom as Markus was.

But he didn’t feel like it. Markus gave him the tools to wake them, he barely did much else.

Speaking of which, an elevator dinged and the leader of the rebellion himself stepped out. And Markus was accompanied by his group of friends. Great.

As soon as he was spotted, Connor wished he thought to straighten his tie beforehand. He greeted Markus with a nod.

“Connor, what brings you here? In uniform, no less.”

They were all looking at him. Connor chose to keep his focus on Markus. He was the tallest, and looking up was easier than looking down.

“I have something I need to discuss with you. Could we go somewhere private?”

Markus’ friendly demeanor vanished.

“What’s wrong?”

He was suddenly aware of how loud the reception area was. Talking, buzzing, music. Footsteps, chairs scraping the floor.

“I’d prefer to speak somewhere else if we could.”

Markus, suddenly the intelligent, brave leader of a people, nodded and brought Connor to the elevator.

* * *

 Another murdered android. Possibly more in the future. A potential a serial killer.

Markus ran a hands over his face. He didn’t need this, his people didn’t need this. Not now. They were so close to fully integrating androids and humans into one society. Detroit was starting to become the thriving city it once was again.

Crime was already rising. But nothing too extreme had happened yet, and deaths had been kept to a minimum. Muggings, harassment, intimidation. Those were things Markus could work towards erasing from the city.

But a murderer?

“How certain are you that it’s a serial killer?” Josh asked.

Markus’ attention was brought back to Connor, who sat at the table in their meeting room like he was meant to be there.

“Not very. But there is a risk, so I thought it was best to tell you.”

Connor looked like he was born to wear a uniform. Well, he _was_ designed by and given clothes from CyberLife, but that didn’t count. He looked so professional, so sure of himself.

Markus sighed. “Thank you for tell us this, Connor. We really appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

Markus’ eyes skimmed over Connor’s form. It probably wasn’t the best time, but he has rarely ever seen Connor in uniform, or at least rarely in person. Connor’s done plenty of interviews for articles and had even appeared on TV on several occasions. With him being an officer, law enforcement became, surprisingly, one of the first major parts of the city to unify human and android counterparts.

**C. Anderson**

Markus’ eyes stopped at the name on Connor’s chest. Anderson. As in Lieutenant Anderson?

It never occured to Markus that Connor would take someone else's surname.

“What should we do?” Simon asked.

“I think,” Markus began, “We should make an announcement in the guise of a safety precaution.”

Connor’s ever observant eyes were trained on him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the humans are starting to move back into Detroit, so now would be a good time to tell people to remain… _watchful_ without inciting widespread fear. Even without a murderer, I think it would be good to make a public announcement.”

“I could have the police department do it”

Markus considered it. Even with Connor acting as a public face for the police, the brutal near-extermination of their people was not yet a distant memory.

“No, I’ll host a physical meeting and send out a message sometime this week.”

The android community was incredibly tightly-knit. They would appreciate seeing Markus in person.

He looked at Connor. At his intelligent, soft brown eyes.

“Will you be there?”

Connor tilted his head slightly. “As an officer or as… a person?”

Something in Connor’s words felt wrong. But the purpose of the message was not to incite fear.

“As yourself.”

Connor’s LED flickered. “I’ll try my best to be there.”

“Thank you, Connor.”

* * *

“I think you should go.”

Connor watched as Hank opened up his second beer, and the last one he’d let the man drink for the night. They were sitting in the kitchen, a decent (and healthy) home-cooked meal on the table after Connor browsed the internet for recipes.

“I know I should. Markus is expecting me to go, and I do suppose I should be a part of it, just to be closer to my people.”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “But..?”

Connor leaned back in his chair, mimicking Hank. What was he going to say?

“I just… wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

Hank sipped his beer. “There’s your answer, then. Don’t go if you don’t want to.”

Connor felt like it was too easy of a way out. And kind of lazy. And rude. “I do want to go, though.”

He would just feel out of place.

Connor remembered the night androids across the country were being slaughtered out of fear. Markus and the handful of his surviving followers were even going to be killed. But then, the military was ordered to stand down just as Connor had arrived with what was essentially an army of freed androids from CyberLife Tower.

Connor had stood on that platform with Markus and the other leaders of Jericho, treated as if he were one of them.

Connor remembered being temporarily hacked, nearly doomed to be trapped within his barren mind garden if he didn’t break free. And Connor only escaped because he remembered Kamski’s “emergency exit”. Connor woke up with his gun in his hand, about to shoot Markus in the back of the head in front of everyone.

It didn’t matter if the emergency exit was a permanent escape. Connor never wanted to lose control of himself again. He never wanted to put himself in a similar situation. He didn’t care if it was illogical, but he was still scared.

* * *

Working was sometimes easier than thinking. And that was probably a bad sentiment to have for someone who was now a free being, but it was the truth.

At least Connor had an excuse. The police department of Detroit was originally composed almost entirely of humans, with the exception of police aides. But many of them left when the city was being evacuated, or quit out of fear. After becoming an officer, Connor chose to take on additional work to alleviate the burden on his remaining human coworkers. He eventually became used to literally working non-stop for days on end if needed. It didn’t matter if Connor had the workload of multiple detectives while still being an officer. It made him feel productive and helpful.

So he was thankful for the work, in a way. It kept him from dwelling too long on his concerns.

Connor was just about done filing a day’s worth of reports when he decided that getting up from his chair wouldn’t hurt him. Especially not after…

Oh. Six hours and twelve minutes.

Yes, he needed a stretch.

Records were kept digitally, but hard copies had to be turned in for security reasons. So Connor decided to personally deliver his physical reports to the archives.

It was nighttime now and the overnight staff were arriving as the regular detectives and officers left. In the archives room, he was surprised to find someone else there so late at night. A young woman, maybe fresh from the academy, was preoccupied with a file.

One of Connor’s files.

He cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

She looked up, and a glowing blue circle flashed yellow for a second. A fellow android. One in an officer’s uniform. She took in Connor’s appearance and gasped softly.

“You.”

He wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a declaration or a question.

“Yes?”

She put his file away and moved her hand as if about to salute him. Connor quickly approached her.

“Can I ask who you are?”

She looked startled.

“My name is Jada Campbell, Sir. And as far as I know, I’m the second android police officer in history.”

Connor observed her, heard the pride in her voice, and held his hand out.

“Well, it’s an honor to meet you, Jada.”

Her eyes flashed between his own and his extended hand. She hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. They interfaced for a brief moment, something that became more common among their kind, and Connor felt a brief description of her life. African-American, physically twenty-four, a three year old model. Connor saw a glimpse of her firing a gun in a shooting range and her scaling a wall with ease. When they let go, she blinked several times and her eyes widened with something akin to awe.

Connor blinked. He was suddenly reminded of the folder tucked in his arm. He came here for a reason.

“Excuse me, if I could just reach that drawer there.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Connor put his file away and left the archive room with Jada.

“So, what made you want to become a police officer?”

“You.”

That one word sent a strange shock through Connor’s system. He couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. He looked at Jada, hoping for any sign that she was joking. She wasn’t.

_“Really?”_

“Yeah, well, you and Markus both. You helped me, and that was when I realized I wanted to help other people too.”

They reached the main floor, now more active and full of bustling people.

“When I heard that the police department was short-staffed, I knew this was where I was meant to be, but I was scared. I thought I’d be the only android in a human-dominated profession. Then I saw you on TV.”

They reached Connor’s desk.

“As soon as we gained citizenship, I applied for the police academy.”

Connor was awed. Almost the moment she was set free, she knew what she wanted?

“So is this your first day, then? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Seventeenth day, actually.” Jada’s smile faded. “I’m part of the graveyard shift, mostly doing patrols at night. I’m rarely ever here.”

Her eyes glanced toward the clock. “I actually arrived early tonight.”

Connor tilted his head slightly, taking in her frown and the disappointment in her eyes.

“And I take it that you aren’t happy with this.”

She shook her head. “I want to be out in daylight. Where people can see me.”

_Like Connor._

A pang of guilt struck him.

Whether he wanted it or not, Connor was supposed to be a role model for their people. Someone with influence. Markus could move crowds, even nations, but Connor should at least be able to do this.

“I’d be happy to talk to Captain Fowler and see if an alternative arrangement can be made.”

“Oh- no, thank you. That would be too much.”

Connor smiled. “But I’d be happy to do it.”

Jada’s eyes widened. “That… that would be incredible, if you could. Thank you so much.”

As Jada left what was hopefully her last graveyard patrol, Connor felt an unusual sense of pride. Satisfaction. He was helping.

Connor actually chose to spend the night at the station to finish up on the rest of his work. At around nine AM, Hank came in.

Connor perked up when he saw him.

“You’re only ten minutes late today, Lieutenant.”

Hank shot Connor a dirty look, but they both knew he didn’t mean it. Hank sat down across from him and began discussing his various cases.

This was the sort of work Connor liked the most. When it was just him and Hank, working together. It helped make him feel alive. And as Hank discussed his latest lead on the android murderer, Connor was simultaneously making a mental note to arrange a meeting with the Captain.


	4. Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus is going to go visit his Art Dad and talk about being gay because I want him to.   
> (extended use of italics= memories)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

When things got too hectic or stressful too quickly, there was one place that Markus liked to go. Somewhere that no one else knew he went to. Not any androids, not any humans, and not even his friends. 

Carl Manfred’s mansion. His father’s home. 

Before leading the march to the android deactivation camp several months prior, Markus returned home to see to his father one last time. They both thought they’d never see each other again, and Markus believed he would die that night. But he didn’t, and neither did his dad. Surprisingly, the old man was quite resilient. He was even making a slow recovery with Leo’s help.

_ “Welcome home, Markus.” _

The house’s AI greeted him pleasantly, and it felt so  _ good _ to know he was still welcomed here. 

Markus walked up the stairs and met Damian, his dad’s newest aide (who was actually being paid a sizable wage and been given a room in the house).

Damian left Markus and his father alone for some privacy. 

There were less machines crowding the room than several months ago. Markus pulled up the chair next to the bed, where his dad was actually sitting up. He took Markus’ hand with his own, rubbing the back of Markus’ hand with his thumb.

“It’s good to see you, Markus.”

He managed a smile. “Thanks, dad. It feels good to be back.”

Markus felt his dad’s thumb slow and stop. He frowned. 

“My boy, you look like something’s eating at you.”

Markus should have known that he wouldn’t be able to appear completely at ease. Not around his dad. But Markus also didn’t want to trouble an old man with the brunt of his worries, so he kept to the basics. 

“As humans return to the city, my people are afraid that they’ll be hurt again. That humans won’t really accept us.”

Markus looked down at his hand, still closely held by his father. 

“Everyone depends on me so much to protect them. And I’m trying.”

Markus squeezed his dad’s hand as much as he dared. “I’m trying  _ so much, _ but it never feels like it’s enough.”

There were androids inside and outside of the city, some trying to get in and some trying to leave to go to someplace safer. Visas, promises, protection. Politicians and red tape. Prejudice and violence. Attempts to make a cohesive society. Markus had felt like he was being pulled in every direction lately and only a month after humans began coming back to Detroit, he had the weight of a potential serial killer running loose. 

They were both quiet for a moment. Then Markus felt an old and calloused hand touch his arm. 

“The sad truth is, you can’t protect everyone, Markus. It just isn’t possible. You can guide them, and prepare them, but at the end of the day, sometimes people will still get hurt. But I know you, and I know that you’re doing your absolute damndest to help the people you care about. And sometimes...”

His father cupped Markus’ face gently. “...that’s all you can do.”

He patted Markus’ hand fondly. 

“But I’m proud of you Markus, for everything that you have managed to do. I hope you don’t forget that.”

Markus felt his eyes grow warm and wet. It was moments like this that made Markus truly appreciate his father.

“Thanks, dad.”

His father settled down to rest more comfortably on his pillows. He studied Markus more carefully. 

“Now how about you entertain an old man, huh? Why don’t you try telling me about any positive thing in your life. If there’s anything that makes you happy right now, I want to hear about it.”

Markus blinked in surprise. 

_ Did it seem like he wasn’t happy?  _

Markus didn’t mean to mislead his dad, despite all the problems he might have. There were plenty of things that made him happy: his friends, the children in New Jericho, sunsets. 

But there was also Connor. 

Connor, who was the most complex of the things that made him smile. 

Markus rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Um, yes, actually. There’s… someone.”

“Now you don’t say?” His dad suddenly radiated such an affectionate, fatherly interest that it made Markus smile. 

“Yes. We’ve known each other for a little while now and he’s probably one of the smartest people I know. He can be reserved at times, but I appreciate that about him.”

His dad nodded in thought. 

“Is this person a human or an android?”

“Is that important?”

The old man shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

Markus shook his head at his dad. “He’s an android. He was there for me, on the night of our march to the camp. He helped free and rally the last of our people in the city.”

Markus would never forget the image of Connor leading thousands of androids to his aid. How determined and bold he looked. What a relief the sight of him was. 

His dad smiled. “This person seems to mean an awful lot to you.”

“He really does.”

Connor just didn’t know it. 

“What’s his name?”

Markus hesitated. He’d rather not let his dad know who exactly he felt for, mainly because it would be awkward to explain to his father that he was technically pining.  _ And _ pining after a well-known figure in their community, no less. But he just wanted a name.

“Connor.”

Carl blinked, and was silent for a moment. Markus felt the sudden, somewhat irrational fear that his dad already knew who it was. 

“Connor…” The old man repeated. “Huh. I think I like the sound of that.”

He nodded approvingly, much to Markus’ confusion.

“Connor Manfred? Or would you take his surname? Hyphenate it, maybe?”

Markus gaped at his father. He couldn’t move. He felt frozen, but the inside of him was burning hot.

It took a good-natured laugh from his father to force some words to come out of his mouth. 

“It’s- it’s not like that, Dad!”

“Oh  _ sure,  _ you say that, but I know the sight of a lovestruck fool when I see one. And if Leo isn’t getting married anytime soon, I’d at least like to see you settle down during my lifetime.”

_ “Dad!” _

Markus suddenly envied Leo for being able to grow up. He missed the part of a human’s life where they learned how to diffuse such awkward conversations with their parent. 

“But in all seriousness,” His dad took Markus’ hand and squeezed it gently. “You can’t trick your old man, Markus. You might’ve changed over the past few months, but I know you too well. You’re in love.”

Markus couldn't help but admit defeat. 

He knew it was true; he was infatuated and his dad could see right through him. But his relationship wasn’t what his dad might’ve thought it was. Connor, despite being an absurdly excellent detective, still failed to notice the attraction Markus felt towards him.

He wanted to talk about it, he really did. It was just…  _ difficult. _ He just felt like any words would fail to explain his emotions. 

Markus looked down at his hand, still lovingly clasped in his dad’s own. Markus gently took his hand back and stood. He had an idea. 

* * *

Damian, or maybe Leo, had been keeping the studio relatively tidy. Markus wandered around, finding all the incomplete works that he remembered watching his dad start.

His own painting was still there, sitting patiently on the easel. Markus walked up to the painting, running his fingers over it. He couldn’t quite believe that he made it less than a year ago.

So much had changed since then. 

With Damian’s help, they carried the painting and easel upstairs with brushes, paint, and a blank canvas. His dad was immediately intrigued, and pleasantly surprised, when they came in loaded with art supplies. 

His eyes lit up when he saw Markus’ painting. 

“It really is incredible, you know?”

Markus set the painting down next to the bed.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“But what do I see here? You plan on making something else?”

Markus went up to the blank canvas, set up so his father could see him work from his bed. 

“That’s the plan. I’m going to be-” Markus spread his arms in an over-exaggerated, flourishing gesture,  _ “-expressing _ myself.”

It made his dad laugh. “Wow, good to see I rubbed off on you in some way.”

Markus turned back to the canvas, which was so startlingly white. He had an idea of what to do, just a vague hint of one, but he didn’t need much more. 

_ Markus was going to paint his muse. _

The thought sent sparks through his chest. 

Like the first time he painted, Markus closed his eyes and let his hand move on his own. Before, he let the brush glide over the canvas without really thinking of  _ what _ to create, but more of how he  _ felt. _

This time, Markus searched his mind for the memories that created the strongest reaction. 

* * *

_ Markus almost didn’t believe what he was seeing. _

_ A team of U.S. soldiers had him and the last surviving members of Jericho at gunpoint. They would’ve been shot and killed if Markus hadn’t starting singing. It was not a religious song, but at the time sounded like the final hymn of his people. It had proven their humanity to the world.  _

_ Then Connor arrived, and with him were thousands of their fellow androids. The sight of them had struck Markus in a way that resonated with the words he just sang.  _

_ He had held on, and help had arrived.  _

_ Connor had walked with his shoulders squared as he lead the second march of that night. He looked like a born leader. _

_ “You did it, Markus.” Connor’s voice was such a welcoming sound at the moment. It could have lulled him to sleep.  _

“We _ did it.” _

_ It was the least Markus could say to express his gratitude. _

* * *

_ The first time he ever really, truly saw Connor unabashedly smile was in a park. Connor was sitting in the grass, laughing as a massive dog happily licked his face. _

_ Markus had found him by chance that day, and didn’t know how to react. It had never occurred to him that Connor would be an animal lover.  _

_ He seemed so much more lively than Makus had ever seen.  _

_ It was cute.  _

* * *

_ Connor appeared on TV for the first time. He was in uniform at a police station. He was praised by the reporter for being the first android police officer. _

_ He smiled. It was different from the one in the dog park. This once was prideful, but not arrogant.  _

_ Markus couldn’t fathom Connor ever growing arrogant.  _

_ He looked every bit like a professional. Connor’s first time on TV was tame, controlled, and cordial.  _

_ His second appearance was not.  _

* * *

_ “Markus? Are you watching the news?” _

_ He had frowned, alarmed by the urgent tone in North’s voice.  _

_ “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” _ __  
_  
_ __ “Just do it, Markus!”

_ He was in his apartment at the time. Markus turned the TV on and flipped through the news stations. Everything had seemed relatively normal until Markus found the local station in Detroit. _

_ “-abandoned their vehicle. An officer pursued on foot and is currently engaged in something reminiscent of an action film.” _

_ The camera cut to an aerial view. A train in downtown Detroit was speeding along. There was a person  _ on _ the train, actually running along the roof of it. _

_ The camera cut again to another person also on top of the train. He was further behind, but was sprinting to catch up to the first individual. He wore a policeman’s uniform. His usually neat brown hair was being blown back messily by the wind.  _

_ Connor was running on top of a  _ fucking train.

_ Markus stood in his living room, watching with rapt attention as Connor hardly seemed phased by his current predicament. He had caught up with the person he was chasing- assumedly a criminal- literally at the end of the line. They fought while standing on top of the last train car. The wind was strong enough to keep them from getting any solid footing. _

_ They both fought with the precision of androids, but Connor was clearly winning. He knocked down his opponent with a sweep of his legs and the unknown android nearly fell of the back of the train. Connor rolled and caught them before they could fall.  _

_ Connor threw open the emergency hatch in the train car’s roof. He pushed the  subdued criminal inside and disappeared after him.  _

_ Markus was stunned. He had seen Connor fight before, but never in broad daylight. Never with such precision and tenacity. Never with such sheer dumb luck and raw bravery. _

_ And something in Markus had found that incredibly attractive.  _

* * *

_ They were sitting on the roof only a few days ago. Connor, bathed in red and gold light, had been so pretty to look at. _

_ When the sun had finished setting, he became cloaked in shadows and the dull light of the city. He was soothing to stare at. The soft angles of his face were highlighted by moonlight. _

_ Markus had wanted to kiss him.  _

* * *

Markus only stopped when he felt it was right. Then he stepped back and opened his eyes.

If he was breathing, he was sure his breath would be caught in his throat. The first thought he had was that it looked _right._

He had painted a serene, pale figure with his eyes closed. There was a shine in his hair that resembled a halo. Hues of blue and gray and black danced around him. 

Markus set down his palette and turned to his dad.

“What do you think?”

His dad pulled his eyes away from the painting to stare at Markus. He shook his head and smiled proudly.

“I think it’s a damn shame you chose to go into politics.”

Markus laughed. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to his dad, surveying the painting from afar. The art style was incredibly reminiscent of his fathers’. 

And it was perfect. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, the tags/warnings on this fic are going to drastically change.


	5. Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thank you to androidlifesmatter on tumblr for beta reading this chapter, I really appreciate your help :)

Hank would never admit to being a old man, but he did appreciate being able to do nothing on a lazy day off. He slept in, caught up on some shows, then was more than happy to order pizza for lunch and eat the leftovers for dinner. And now, he was on the couch watching RoboCop with Sumo.

And, since Connor wasn’t around, he could sip a glass of whiskey in peace.

Halfway through the movie, Sumo got up and padded over to the front door, whining softly. Hank glanced at his phone and furrowed his brows. Connor wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour, but there was the unmistakable hum of a car, probably a taxi, outside.

Hank thought about getting his gun, just in case, when the front door unlocked. He saw Sumo’s tail wag and knew it was Connor. Hank got up, but any relief he might have felt was washed away. Connor didn’t stop to pet the dog. He didn’t even say hello.

 _Okay, then._ Hank knew something was wrong. He walked over to the door. Connor stood there with this strange, lost look on his face. A cardboard box was tucked under one arm.

Hank felt this instinct in his gut that he didn’t like. “What happened?”

Connor immediately hung his head.

“I… something happened today.”

“What?” Hank asked sharply.

He didn’t like that look on Connor’s face. He didn’t like how small his voice was.

Why was he so worried?

“Did someone die?”

Death was a scary thing and a new concept for Connor, who no longer had an endless supply of himself to transfer memories to. But he shook his head.  
  
“No…I- I’m not an officer anymore.”

_What?_

What did _not an officer_ mean? Hank had to have misheard. But the box under Connor’s arm… his belongings?

“You got _fired?”_

Connor took a few steps forward.  
  
“I...” And then, Connor looked up and had one of the most genuine smiles Hank had ever seen on him, “I got promoted.”

It took Hank a few seconds to process what he heard.

 _“Excuse_ me?”

Connor had the audacity to wink. “I got you though, Hank.”

Connor opened up the box, which was probably from Hank’s own garage now that he looked at it, and pulled out a certificate. **_Corporal_ ** stood out in thick, black letters.

Hank felt something warm and happy bubble up in his chest. He wanted to be proud of Connor, he really did, but…

“You little shit!” Hank wrapped his arm around Connor’s shoulders and pulled him down so he could rub his knuckles through the kid’s hair. Sumo started barking wildly.

“This outta teach you for trying something on me!”

But he was smiling.

Connor pulled himself out of Hank’s arms, laughing softly. “It’s not my fault that you fell for it.”

Hank grunted and grumbled some good-natured insults, neglecting to bring up how Connor could pull off better puppy-eyes than Sumo. But in truth, he really was afraid that something had happened to his boy.

A second later and Hank registered his own words.

_His boy._

Was this something new or something he just never noticed? How long had he been considering Connor his _son?_

Completely oblivious to his revelation, Connor was happily chasing Sumo into the living room. Hank followed close behind.

His eye caught the photo on the wall of them standing together on Connor’s first day as an officer. One photo didn’t mean anything, but…

Hank looked down the hall. Cleaning up and renovating Cole’s room was one of the most painful things he had to do, but at the time Connor didn’t have any money or a home. He didn’t feel comfortable enough staying with Markus and his crew, either.

Hank cared about Connor. He didn’t think he’d ever care in the exact same way he cared about Cole, but Connor meant so much to him now.

He walked over and sat down on the couch, letting Sumo climb all over him. He restarted the movie, explaining the plot briefly to Connor, whose LED was blinking curiously.

Having someone else in the house, someone who made him want to live and someone who made him feel proud, felt good. It felt really good.

* * *

Connor needed his promotion and the little prank he played on Hank. It made him feel accomplished. And seeing Hank smile made him feel safe. It was a good way to distract himself for the night because the sun had just risen and the guilt was already beginning to reemerge.

It was the day of Markus’ meeting, and Connor still hadn’t given him a conclusive response. A part of him knew that he may never adjust to being his own person if he remained isolated from his kind. But another part of him just didn’t _want_ to.

He didn’t want to be there, to be reminded of how easily CyberLife could have used him as the instrument in Markus’ assassination. He liked Markus. He really, truly did, but Connor also couldn’t help but feel so small next to him. Why go when Markus would easily eclipse him in his shadow anyway?

Connor arrived at the station with Hank, and was thankful for the ever present work to keep him busy.

If Captain Fowler asked him to stay late, he’d have to miss the meeting. But then he’d be disappointing people, wouldn’t he?

Sometimes he thought that working was easier than thinking.

Connor found his desk and quickly settled into his typical routine. He went through his morning work without a break and neglected to join Hank for lunch. He insisted that he was “on a roll”, that he’d lose track of his work if he left. He had a large enough workload to warrant it.

In the afternoon, Connor caught Hank glancing at him every now and then.

The hours went by.

A hand waved in front of him. Connor blinked, focus removed from his current report to the hand’s owner.

Hank smirked.

“Come on, _Corporal._ We’re still understaffed and I need your help with a lead.”

Connor nodded and got up from his desk. He’d rather not leave a report unfinished, but field work was more important.

Outside, the sun was close to setting and just barely peeking through the clouds. That was both good and bad. It meant they were less likely to be spotted by the suspect, but also meant that Hank’s own vision was impaired. Connor would make up for it though.

* * *

It turned out that Hank’s latest lead took them to what could be a potential hideout for the android killer. It was an empty apartment complex, where in the basement, two frightened androids were beyond happy to see them.

But they almost ignored Hank entirely in favor of thanking Connor over and over again. They lightly grasped at his hands thankfully, almost reverently, and Connor was so confused. He wasn’t Markus.

“It’s going to be alright. You two are safe now. We just need-”

Then they heard footsteps. Dust floated down from the ceiling.

Connor and Hank shared a look. He called for backup immediately, just to ensure the victims’ safety, and escorted them out of the building while Hank pursued the footsteps. The night air hung heavily on Connor’s shoulders. As a second police car rounded the street corner, he heard gunshots.

Three shots. Impossible to tell if it was Hank or if the killer was armed or both.

The fifteen seconds it took for the cruiser to stop in front of them was one of the longest waits of Connor’s life. Hank could be hurt or dying, but Connor knew he had to stay with the two rescued androids. He reassured them that they were still safe, that his partner would keep their assailant occupied. He promised the two of them that they would be in perfectly capable hands with human officers. Except that the first person out of the cruiser was Officer Campbell.

Their eyes met. Connor mentally ran the situation by her, silently begging her to help the victims. She nodded.

“Go help the Lieutenant. I got this.”

Connor turned to run back into the building but right before he left, a hand caught his arm.

“Wait, I think you should know, the person who kidnapped us, she threatened to kill us if we didn’t tell her where Markus was.”

The girl was breathing heavily, such a human reaction, and tears welled up in her eyes. She was shaking.

“We told her about the meeting tonight.”

Connor’s world seemed ready to collapse in on itself.

Hank was up there alone. Markus was in danger.

And he was still standing just _standing there._

He heard himself say, “I understand.”

Connor sprinted back into the building, gun out of it’s holster. He didn’t fully snap to his senses until he climbed four sets of stairs. The world came back to him in full detail when his external sensors blared bright red warnings at him. Connor flung himself back into the stairwell. A bullet shattered the plaster where his head would have been.

So he knew now that the suspect was armed.

But where was Hank?

Connor peered out as far as he dared and saw his partner in the doorway of an apartment, two doors away, crouched down and looking frustrated. But no blood, that was good.

Their eyes met.

Hank pointed to his handgun, then motioned with his his thumb down the hall. Their suspect was apparently only armed with a handgun, which was… not great, but could be worse.

Connor’s mind ran the calculations. He was in the stairwell, and Hank was in between him and the suspect. Unless there was an easily accessible fire escape, the stairs would be where the suspect most wanted to go. He heard three gunshots, and the suspect fired one round at Connor. But if he didn’t know what type of handgun it was, he couldn’t accurately calculate how many bullets they had left.

So Connor chose to go with one of Hank’s favorite methods: guns blazing.

He held up a hand so Hank could see but their suspect couldn’t. Slowly, he counted down on his fingers.  
  
Five, four…

Three, two…

One.

Still relatively concealed, Hank and Connor both stepped as far out as they dared and opened fire. Connor could see their target in the room farthest down the hall on the left side of the corridor. With Hank covering him, Connor moved forward.

Two doors away, Connor saw the barrel of a rifle and pulled Hank into the nearest room.

More than one gun. Greater danger. Worse odds.

Connor was debating the best approach when the gunshots stopped. There was the sound of heavy footsteps retreating. Connor felt Hank try to pull on his sleeve, but he ran out the doorway. The last door in the hall wasn’t even closed.

Their suspect wasn’t afraid of being caught?

No. That wasn’t it.

Connor ran through the apartment and found one of the windows open and a handgun left behind.

Damn.

“I’m going after them!”

“Connor, wait-”

But he didn’t listen. Connor climbed through the window and onto the fire escape. He saw a figure dressed in black sprinting across the rooftop of the next building. Flashbacks of trying to catch the deviant, Rupert, crossed Connor’s mind before he started sprinting down the stairs. Once he was one level above the building across, Connor climbed up onto the rail of the fire escape and jumped.

His sensors were screeching at him. The rush of air blew his hair back.

Connor just caught the ledge of the building and hoisted himself up. He started chasing the suspect while beginning to piece his bits of information better. No ordinary human would have made that jump.

_Athlete or military experience?_

There was a sniper rifle strapped to her back. There was no doubt where she was heading now.

He called out, _“STOP!”_

The suspect didn’t, though.

As they climbed and crossed rooftops and fences, pipes and windows, Connor knew he’d be able to outlast a human. It was just a matter of seeing when she would grow tired. Connor did have a gun, but wouldn’t fire unless absolutely necessary.

He stumbled as he jumped from one building to the next. A horrible thought occurred to him.

_Did he ever tell anyone to alert Markus?_

* * *

The night had gone smoothly. There was a short gathering, followed by an online message. Markus felt accomplished, but as one issue resolved itself, another one took its place.

Connor was absent and it left a strange, nervous feeling in Markus’ chest.

No notice, no call, nothing. Markus scanned the crowd of those who came in person several times over, just hoping that somehow, he missed him.

He didn’t.

And that wasn’t like him. Connor was the epitome of promptness and courtesy. Something had to have happened for him to be absent. Maybe Markus should have called beforehand.

He saw the darkening sky outside. Maybe he should call now. Just in case.

He found someplace secluded, an empty conference room, and dialed Connor’s number. His phone ringed and ringed and ringed, being far more patient than Markus was.

_“Hello-”_

“Connor I-”

_“Sorry I can’t answer at the moment. Please-”_

Markus ended the call. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the cold, brick wall. Connor was a busy person. He was probably at the station or on the streets, protecting the city in ways Markus couldn’t. He was just busy.

He was fine. The way Markus’ abdomen felt taut with worry was just him overreacting. He walked out of the room and found his friends waiting for him. Connor was fine.

The sound of thunder shook Markus from his thoughts. He looked outside again and saw raindrops beginning to pepper the window.

* * *

Connor made a mistake.

He had make the _dumbest_ fucking mistake and now more than one person might have to pay for it.

The person ahead of him appeared to already know the best route from the apartment complex to New Jericho. She cut through buildings, through windows that were already unlocked or across rooftops that were already cleared of obstacles. She was also abnormally good at evading capture, even by an android.

Then Connor had a choice between following her, or choosing to climb a ladder and gaining the high ground. He chose the route that was longer, but gave him more visibility.

It was also supposed to be safer.

He had people who cared about him now. Connor wasn’t supposed to be leaping recklessly into danger anymore. He did what he thought other people would have done. What Hank would have wanted him to do.

But Connor was such an _idiot._ He should have fired at her then and there. Should have disregarded safety. He should have followed and stayed close. But he made the choice that would lessen his risk of getting hurt.

Connor wished he was still a machine. His own safety wouldn’t have been a priority.

He wasted precious seconds scanning the area for her. Simulations and calculations ran through his head as he sprinted across the rooftops of Detroit. By the time he found her, even if she was a human and growing tired, he wouldn’t catch up to her in time.

She would get to New Jericho first. She’d get to Markus first.

Something desperate and scared and absolutely primal started burning in his chest. Connor took out his gun and fired at her. The gunshot ringed through the air and was undoubtedly audible from the ground. He didn’t care for the damage to the buildings around her. But he was horrified by how his hands shook.

He missed.

Connor was supposed to be an excellent shot but. _He. Was._ _Missing._

He broadened his scanners, hoping for _anything_ that would help him. And-

_Why hadn’t he noticed?_

The thirium seemed to freeze inside of him.

_What was wrong with him?_

New Jericho stood a block away.

Desperately, Connor sprinted after the suspect.

There was the sound of police cruisers in the distance, but they wouldn’t be able to see the her from the ground. Connor had another choice to make, and only seconds to do so.

Contact backup and hope they did something, or warn Markus.

He already jeopardized Markus once by taking the detour.

Connor hoped that he made the right decision this time.

* * *

Markus just reached his friends when there was a sudden buzzing in his head. It didn’t hurt, but he was surprised to hear the voice that came with it.

_Markus… is coming… do not under any…side…_

He slowed to a stop.

Was that Connor?

He’d never heard him sound so frantic before.

What if Connor was in trouble? He had to be close to contact him directly, but his usually soothing voice was fractured by static.

“Markus?” Simon asked, “Is something wrong?”

Markus turned away from them and squinted toward the door. They couldn’t hear him?

If Connor spoke to him alone, it had to be for a reason.

“I’m not sure.”

Connor was in distress, that he was certain of, but he had to be nearby.

“Wait here.”

Markus walked up to the doors and didn’t hesitate before leaving the building.  

* * *

Connor jumped ten feet from one roof to another, roughly rolling and hastily reaching his feet.

_“Stop!”_

She was crouched down by the edge of the roof. She had already set up her rifle.

_No, no, no, no, no…_

She turned and pulled a knife strapped to her side.

_Seven inch blade, steel, double-edged, partially serrated._

But did she know how to use it?

Connor leveled his gun and fired. She rolled to the side, dodging his hastily-aimed shots. Connor moved closer to the center of the roof, trying to put himself between this person and the rifle. His eyes scanned wildly over the area, trying to take in as much as possible.

Darkness. Rain. He was an android fighting a human.

He had the advantages.

Connor pulled the trigger again, but heard nothing. Saw nothing.

_Out of ammunition?_

When did he lose count?

She must’ve realized it too. She lunged at him. Markus’ ability to preconstruct the world came back into focus. Connor saw the way she was moving. He jerked to the side as a blade grazing his shoulder and tore his jacket. She swung her arm back, knife twisted to strike him. Connor threw his arm up. He felt her forearm hit his. The point of the knife hovered over his pupil.

There was a warmth beneath her sleeve. Human, definitely.

A knee slammed into his stomach and Connor lurched. There was a glint of metal and he threw himself sideways to the ground. He rolled to avoid her foot and kicked upward.

He struck her hand and she cried out. Hopefully she couldn’t use that hand anymore. The knife fell.

Connor tried to sweep her off her feet but only clipped one heel as she moved back. He got up and grunted as a fist collided with the side of his head. He blocked the next punch and saw the knife sitting next to him. Time seemed to slow.

He dived but a boot stepped on the knife. She kicked it behind her and punched him again, keeping him off balance.

Connor was almost certain she at least had military experience at this point. And a hatred of androids wouldn’t be unexpected. Many of his kind had replaced hers in the armed forces, had taken away their sense of duty.

They stared at each other for a moment. She wanted the rifle behind him, and he wanted the knife behind her.

No. That was an understatement.

He wanted her subdued. He wanted the rifle dismantled. He wanted Markus safe inside.

Connor bit his lip and a reading of his own blue blood flashed across his eyes.

He was bleeding?

He didn’t think about it.

* * *

“Come on, _come on…”_

Traffic kept Hank from getting to either Markus or Connor, wherever he was. Cars couldn’t part for him fast enough.

Hank sent out an alert for anyone in the area to get to New Jericho but he was still the closest available personnel. He was staring up at the rooftops, hoping to catch a glimpse of Connor. But all he saw were dark, stormy clouds and a shit ton of rain. Connor wasn’t contacting him, and Hank had this sense of foreboding in his gut.

It was either a kind of parental instinct or paranoia, and he knew deep down that his boy needed him.

 _“Fuck_ this.”

Hank pulled his car over and ran out into the pouring rain.

* * *

 

Markus stood outside, shielded from the elements by the arch over New Jericho’s entrance. The streets were sparse. Most people had taken shelter already and the few still out were rushing to get home. Umbrellas dotted the sidewalks. But no Connor.  

Where had his voice come from?

Markus knew he was close, he just couldn’t see him. He reached out with his mind, trying to connect with Connor’s own.

_“Connor? Where are you?”_

No answer. Was static warping his voice?

Maybe he needed to be closer.

Markus stepped out into the heavy rain.

* * *

Connor heard a voice in his head.

_“Connor? Where are you?”_

He could feel how close Markus was. His LED flashed from yellow to red.

Desperately, Connor threw himself at his opponent and they both crumpled to the ground. She threw her arm out to catch herself. He tried to punch her but she kneed him again.

Connor wasn’t fighting with a plan in his head anymore. He wasn’t building simulations anymore. He was fighting for the sole purpose of keeping this person away from Markus. Away from the rifle.

With her free hand, she grabbed the knife. Connor’s sensors screamed at him. He disregarded every warning. _Just do your job._

He punched her, felt warm, red blood gush from her nose.

Then a blade plunged into his chest.

Connor choked and gasped.

She drove the knife in as deep as possible, using the handle as leverage to throw him off of her. Then she ran.

Connor coughed wetly, feeling waves of blue blood bubble in his throat. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t keep it down with the knife in his chest. Alarms and warnings were screaming at him inside his head.

His thirium pump was ruptured. The knife damaged one of the precious valves that kept his blood from flooding his artificial lungs and throat.

**SYSTEM SHUTDOWN IMMINENT**

**0:2:00**

Connor let out a choked, panicked, warbled wail. His voice was barely perceivable even to his own ears. Blue blood spilled from his lips.

The sight of it on the ground sent an icy shock through Connor’s entire body. He inhaled sharp, broken breaths that he didn’t need but desperately wanted. His body shook.

Connor was scared. He was more scared than when he felt Simon die or when he almost killed Markus.

_He was dying._

And then he realized that there would be no new body waiting for him. He was going to die in less than a few minutes, choking and gasping like an infant.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t make the awful numbers go away.

**0:1:54**

He wanted it to stop, he wanted all the panic and fear and emotions to stop. But he couldn’t do anything. It felt like he was drowning in his own blood.

And he had failed. Maybe when it mattered the most, he couldn’t do his job.

_Would Markus die now? Because of him?_

Connor didn’t want to think about dying.

He thought about Markus instead, and how so many people relied on him. Markus was the voice of a people. He was a face that the entire world knew.

Something besides blood and panic started burning inside his chest. Connor was going to be dead soon, but Markus was too important to die.

A rush of understanding took over Connor’s panicked mind.

He knew what to do.

Because sometimes working was easier than thinking.

Connor pulled the knife out of his chest and stopped trying to breathe. He pushed himself to his forearms, then his hands and knees, before standing. He turned.

This person, this murderer, was at the her rifle and taking aim.

**0:1:48**

Even with the knife he would lose another fight, guaranteed.

But he had to try.

Connor broke into a sprint, funneled all of his remaining energy into it. He slammed into her with his shoulder.

There was the sound of a gunshot.

Connor wasn’t controlling himself. He pushed with his entire weight and felt her fall over the edge of the building.

Well, that was one way to stop her…

In one single second, she had turned. Her eyes were blown wide with shock. He heard her gasp. She grabbed the front of his jacket.

He tried to grab the ledge. The roof was wet. Connor couldn’t support himself.

He fell down with her.

**0:1:45**

Connor closed his eyes.

Mission successful.

 


	6. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly couldn’t decide whether this part felt right or not being a part of the next chapter because it’s such an important scene, so it’s kind of like it’s own mini-chapter. I know it’s really short, but please bear with me.

There was the sharp, loud sound of a gunshot. The pavement next to Markus seemed to explode, sending bits of debris flying. He instinctively threw himself backward.  

But there wasn’t another gunshot.

He wasn’t hurt.

Markus heard someone scream. 

Was someone else injured? 

He looked up and felt the thiruim in his veins freeze. 

Two people were falling from a building. 

One of them in a police uniform. 

He couldn’t move. Markus could only watch, begging the universe for that person to be anyone else. 

They hit the ground and a sound so sharp and utterly  _ sickening _ fractured the air. 

Then there was silence. 

But Markus was still there, standing on the sidewalk. 

He was surrounded by other people who were equally frozen. He didn’t blink, he couldn’t think. 

Markus suddenly ceased to feel the rain on his face. 

Did even the raindrops stop? 

Did the world stop?

He didn’t know how long he stood there until a voice ruptured the dense silence that had engulfed him. 

_ “CONNOR!” _

A man was running, was the only one on the street moving. He ran up to the two bodies and collapsed in front of one. 

Markus knew that man. 

A clap of thunder broke his daze. Markus suddenly understood the way humans described their stomach dropping. He felt this cold, heavy weight in him that plummeted from his heart to his abdomen.

Then he was sprinting toward Lieutenant Anderson. 

The road was sparse, and the cars that were there had also stopped. 

A woman laid on the ground bleeding and dying, gasping slowly for breath. 

The Lieutenant was holding the other person’s hand, bent over them almost as if in prayer. Markus slowed to a stop and heard him murmur brokenly. 

“It’s okay, son. I got you, I got you. You’re going to be fine.”

Markus couldn’t feel his legs move, but somehow, he had walked around the man to better see who it was.

Connor’s soft brown eyes moved sluggishly from the Lieutenant to him. His lips were stained blue. 

His voice was so small, broken and warbled by static.  _ “Markus.” _

Just hearing his own name made him collapse. He knelt next to them, throat tight. Hot tears blurred his vision. 

How did this happen?

How could this happen to _ Connor? _

“Son?” The Lieutenant asked.

But Connor only closed his eyes.

The rain had never felt so cold.  
  



	7. Post Mortem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ PLEASE READ PLEASE READ:  
> So for a while, I was really into D:BH and I even managed to write out like twelve chapters for this fic (this chapter and the previous ones included), but recently I’ve just been losing a lot of passion for this fic. I’ve got some life things that I need to take care of and I’m starting college soon, so i’m pretty busy right now. I just don't have as much energy to write as I did starting off. 
> 
> But rest assured, I really don’t want to leave this fic unfinished! This is still a story that I like, even if it's going to end up shorter (and admittedly maybe even a little sloppier) than I originally planned. So I’m going to post the rest of the finished chapters I have left and end this fic the best I can. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of this story.

 

The hospital, reconfigured in part to accommodate androids, made Hank sick. It reminded him of that night, years ago, when the road was too icy.

He felt just as helpless, waiting in a plastic chair in some room too far away from his son. An android tried to save Cole, and now another was assessing Connor’s condition. 

Hank would’ve done anything, would’ve traded in his own life, if it meant saving his son years ago. And now that same burning, desperate sensation was eating away at him again. 

He wanted a drink. He wanted many drinks. Hank wanted to drown himself in alcohol so badly. But he had to be here for Connor. And what would he say if he found out Hank was binge drinking again?

He leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees and he could bury his face in his hands.

He was going to lose another son.

He didn’t know if he could go through it again.

The door to the waiting room slid open. The sound of footsteps barely registered in Hank’s mind. Nothing mattered, not until a hand was placed on his shoulder. 

Irritation sparked in his gut.

Why couldn’t he just be a man left to his own misery?

Hank looked up and saw maybe the most important person in Detroit standing over him. The person Connor died for. 

“May I sit here?”

Hank waved at the seat next to him half-heartedly. Markus sat down besides him. Neither spoke and neither wanted to speak. 

They just sat there, and waited. 

* * *

Markus was in a daze. Time meant nothing to him. The sound of Connor hitting pavement was still ringing in his ears.

He closed his eyes and kept them shut until a nurse walked in and asked for Lieutenant Anderson to come with him. The man pushed himself to his feet with a slow, soft grunt. It was obvious how tired he was. 

Markus stood as well, but far more hesitantly. 

“Can I come with you?”   


It was so much to ask. Probably too much. 

As deeply as Markus cared for Connor, it was best that family saw him first.

Markus was about to retract his question when the Lieutenant shrugged and gestured for him to follow. They left the waiting room together. 

The walk down winding hallways and under bright lights was quiet. Bitterly so.

Markus had been in hospitals before. He was familiar with the sent of antiseptic and the bright, sterile lights. He came to visit some of his people who had been damaged in the immediate aftermath of gaining their freedom. He was in hospitals even earlier when taking care of his father. 

But no matter how many times he visited hospitals before, it was never easy. The sight of the people inside, some sick and some dying, was not easy to bear. This time was no different.

The nurse lead them to a room and ushered them inside. 

Markus suddenly couldn’t move.

Connor was laying on a metal table in front of them. His previous clothes seem to have been removed and a white sheet was placed over his body, pulled up to his collarbones.

He could have been sleeping. 

_ “Oh, son…” _

It was the first time Markus heard the Lieutenant speak since entering the hospital. The man walked up to the table slowly. Markus watched him bring a hand up to his face and bow his head.

There was a doctor in the room. Another android.

Markus couldn’t look at Connor anymore. Instead, he walked up to the doctor. 

“Can you… tell us?”

He couldn’t even speak properly, but the doctor seemed to understand.

* * *

Shattered endoskeleton, ruptured thirium pump…

Hank didn’t want a list of things wrong with Connor. He didn’t want to hear all the ways he was broken. A part of him wanted to scream at the doctor to shut up and another part of him wanted to kick Markus out just so he could be alone.

He just wanted to be alone.

Hank’s palm was stained blue from holding Connor’s hand as he laid dying. Now he could barely stomach to look at him. 

Nothing the doctor said had any impact on Hank except for two words.

“...extensive repairs...”

Hank looked up from Connor and stared at the two other androids in the room. 

They noticed him staring. 

_ “Repairs?” _

Markus suddenly looked lost and uncomfortable.

“It may be possible,” the doctor clarified, “to revive him-”   
  
“Then do it.”   


“But…” the android looked nervous under Hank’s gaze.

“He was a prototype. We have the thirium and most of the parts needed to revive him here, but there are structures exclusive to him that we don’t have.”

Hank looked at the doctor. Then at Markus. 

Markus, who was supposed to be the damn leader of his people. Their protector.

“Is that all?”

Both of them seem taken aback. 

“I don’t think you understand, Lieutenant Anderson, we-”

“Can you keep him here, at least for now?”

No response. 

“Well?” Something calm and cold and almost familiar began pushing against the grief out of Hank’s heart. 

“Y-yes. Of course. We intend on having him remain here while we do what we can.”

Hank nodded. “Alright, then.”

Hank looked down at Connor one last time. He knew that he’d do anything to make this right. 

Swallowing his pride would be easy. 

“I’ll be back.”    
  
Whether or not he was speaking to Connor or the doctor, no one in the room knew for certain. Then Hank left. 

* * *

Markus watched the doors close after the Lieutenant. The world finally started revolving at a regular speed. Markus thanked the doctor for all his hard work before leaving as well.

“Lieutenant?”

He was already down the hall. Markus caught up to him and grabbed his wrist. 

“Where are you  _ going?” _

Connor was still in that room. Markus couldn’t understand why the man Connor took his surname after was just  _ leaving.  _

The Lieutenant stared at him. There was grief and loss in his eyes, but something else. A pain. A fire. 

“I know a guy. Someone who might be able to help.”

Markus squinted, not understanding. Surely, he didn’t mean anyone from CyberLife. 

_ “Who?” _

The Lieutenant shook his head. “Just stay with him, alright? Can you at least do that?”

He pulled himself free from Markus’ weak grasp. 

He asked again, “Alright?”

Markus blinked. He realized he was breathing and tried to steady himself. 

When had he even started?

“Yes. I’ll stay with him for as long as I can.”

The Lieutenant nodded. 

“Good.”

And then he was gone. 

* * *

Markus went back to that room and sat next to Connor, as if the only romantic love of his life was merely asleep. There wasn’t a fiber of his being that wouldn’t be happy to trade places with Connor, to die if it meant him living.

But Connor wasn’t a human. He could, technically, be brought back to life. 

At a cost.

There was no returning from a human’s death, but androids were different. If enough of their bodies remained intact, the broken parts could be replaced. They could be reborn.

But those that have come back weren’t the same. 

They’ve tasted the sensation of not being alive, of being  _ nothing, _ and have returned from it. Some, like Simon, were grateful to be alive again. They cherish life like never before. 

Others… were not. Markus had met a few androids that were killed or deactivated, brought back to life only to wish they were still dead. 

Because to them, living while knowing the sensation of death, and knowing it will come again, was worse than dying and staying dead. 

But Connor already knew what death felt like.

He felt Simon shoot himself. He felt one of Markus’ closest friends die. It was a sensation the propelled him toward deviancy. He had lived every day from that point knowing what death felt like.

Now Connor himself was dead. He fell from a building in a desperate attempt to save Markus’ life.

Looking at Connor now, Markus was suddenly reminded of an ethical question that humans and androids alike hotly debated.

Was it right to bring them back? 

Markus had been neutral on the topic for so long. He believed it was up to the individual, that if they specified sometime in life to be revived then they should. 

Connor never specified, but Markus wanted more than anything to have him back. 

And if whoever the Lieutenant had left for could really help, then Markus wouldn’t ever hesitate to tell Connor again. Even if his feelings went unreturned, it’d still be enough. At least Connor would know. 

But Markus was also  _ worried. _ Connor would have known death and lived through it twice if he was revived.

What would that do to him?  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (P.S. My original note for this chapter was- “Markus doesn’t know how many times Connor has actually died.”)


	8. A Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. updates at 2 AM! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! You were all so understanding and I really do appreciate it! Even though I’ve gotten busier, I’m still happy to post the chapters that I have and try to finish this fic on a high note.

Hank pulled up to the mansion overlooking the lake. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. He didn’t want to leave the car and face the man inside, but he had no choice. Hank got out, walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. 

Not even a few seconds later, a pretty, blonde android answered the door. 

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. I will inform Mister Kamski that you’re here.”

Kamski’s foyer looked the same since Hank was last there, and now he was waiting to see if the bastard himself changed at all. 

A few minutes went by and a door opened, revealing the same girl and Elijah Kamski himself. He looked surprised to see Hank, but only mildly so. As if he was only being polite for Hank’s sake.

Kamski walked toward him in that slimey way that exuded smugness. 

“Hello, Lieutenant Anderson. What brings you back to my humble abode? Last I recall, our first encounter was less than pleasant.”

Hank could certainly recall how their first meeting had ended with him demanding that Connor not shoot an innocent girl. 

“Something happened, Kamski. To Connor.”

The little prick tilted his head to the side. He seemed to begin to regard Hank more seriously. 

“Then the rumors are true.”

Hank tilted his dead. “What rumors?”

Kamski turned and waved for him to follow. Inside his house, Hank got that feeling of being watched again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two other identical girls chatting quietly to themselves. One was looking at him.    
  
“Chloe, turn on the TV.”

“Yes, Sir.”

A massive screen started playing the news. Hank saw a reporter outside of New Jericho. Behind her, there was the red and blue flash of police lights.

“-where earlier last night, two people were seen falling from the roof of the building across the street. We have unconfirmed reports that one of the people was a police officer. The-”

“Mute the TV.”

Kamski turned away from the live feed and faced Hank with too much confidence. 

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

Hank really wanted to punch him for being so calm, but he reminded himself that he was there for a reason. 

“Yeah. He’s in really bad shape right now.”

Kamski took a step closer. 

“Is that so?”

Hank was taller than him by a few inches, and used it to his advantage. He scowled down at Kamski. 

_ “Yes.” _

The asshole hardly seemed bothered. If anything, irritating Hank seemed to make him happier.

Then he smiled. He had the fucking balls to smile. 

“So then the question is, Lieutenant, why have  _ you _ come to  _ me?” _

Hank exhaled through his nose. He held his hands out to his sides in frustration. 

“The guys at CyberLife hate Connor for siding with Markus. They would never help him.”

There was an unspoken question hanging in the air.

Kamski cocked his head to the side. “But I created CyberLife, remember? It’s practically my child.”

“Your child that kicked you out of the house instead of the other way around.”  

Kamski raised one eyebrow. He seemed to like the fact that Hank had the guts to talk back to him.

“Why don’t you get another android to fix him?” He challenged. 

Hank started boiling on the inside in the exact same way as the first time they met. Connor was more than a fucking machine. He didn’t need to be  _ fixed,  _ he needed  _ help. _

“Connor was a prototype _.  _ He’s got parts that apparently the regular android doctors don’t have. I thought that if anyone could save him, it’d be you.”

No matter how badly he wanted to deck the asshole, Hank would swallow his pride a million times over for Connor.

Kamski studied him for a moment. 

“What an interesting choice of words, Lieutenant. You want me to  _ save _ him, do you?”

Hank didn’t respond. 

The little billionaire turd turned away from him slowly. There was a distant look in his eyes, as if he deep in thought. 

_ “I wonder…”  _ He whispered. 

Kamski began pacing the room. 

“What are you doing, Kamski?”

No answer. Hank didn’t have time for this shit. He was about to walk out, feeling like he shouldn’t have even bothered, when Kamski stopped. A light bulb was practically shining over his head. He snapped toward Hank, and there was this look in his eyes that made his skin crawl. 

It was curiosity and hunger, want and excitement. It was the look of a child about to be given back their favorite toy. 

“Where is he?”

* * *

Markus was walking in the park alone, trying to enjoy the rare few hours off he had before going back to work. The sun was actually trying to shine down on the city for once and the air was warmer than in recent weeks. Markus could even feel the sunlight on his face.

He paused to savor the view around him. A park comprised almost entirely of android visitors. Couples free to love each other milled about and children ran in the grass. There were the senses of accomplishment and ease in the air. 

Markus had done this. He’d worked to give his people the chance to act as the humans did before they evacuated the city. They were free and could do whatever they wanted. And when the humans returned to the city, they’d finally integrate into one cohesive society. 

Markus walked further down the path. There was a fenced off area designed as a dog park and out of curiosity, Markus decided to walk into it.

To his surprise, there were dozens of dogs. Apparently, many androids had become animal lovers.

Laughter caught his attention and Markus quickly spotted a huddle of children. Among them was a  _ massive _ Saint Bernard that was happily romping among them. It’s bark was deep and loud, but his wagging tail betrayed any sign of aggression. The dog woofed and tried to chase after a little boy, but a whistle caught it’s attention.

“Come here, Sumo!”

That voice. 

Markus scanned the area and found Connor standing in the shade of a tree, patting his thighs. The giant dog bounded back to him and Connor welcomed the animal with open arms. 

And Connor… 

He looked so different. 

His hair wasn’t combed the way it usually was. It seemed to just hang loosely around his face, and there was a slight curl to his locks. He was in black track pants, a gray hoodie, and even blue sneakers. Markus had never seen him so casually dressed before. He had never seen him smile before. 

And he had a dog?

Markus quietly walked over. By the time he had approached them, Connor was forced to sit in the grass as the dog licked his face. 

“Hello, Connor.”

He looked up. Their eyes met and then the relaxed aura around Connor seemed to vanish instantly. 

Connor pushed the dog off of him and got to his feet. 

“Hello, Markus. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He had sounded so formal. “I thought I’d like to get some fresh air.”

In broad daylight and this close, Connor had so many more freckles than Markus had noticed before. 

Then, Connor’s behemoth of a dog trotted over and started sniffing at Markus’ clothes. 

_ “Sumo, _ stop that.”

There was such a sense of urgency in his voice that both the dog and Markus looked at him. 

“I’m sorry about him.”

Connor pulled a leash from his hoodie pocket and hooked it to the dog’s collar. Markus didn’t understand why Connor suddenly seemed so uncomfortable. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind dogs, I just didn’t know you had one.”

The Saint Bernard’s big brown eyes were staring up at Markus, as if silently pleading for a good scratching. 

“Well, he’s not technically my dog, but I like walking him.”

Markus’ curiosity was piqued. He wanted to ask whose dog it was. There was another part of him that wanted to ask why Connor didn’t wear his hair like that all the time. Why he didn’t dress more casually. Why he didn’t smile more. 

“I’m sorry, Markus. But we actually have to leave now.”

Connor started walking and Markus decided to fall into step next to him. 

“I’d be happy to walk with you to the exit.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sure you’re busy-”

“I’m not, Connor.” Markus smiled. “I’m in a park, after all.”

They didn’t say anything else. As they walked together, Markus noticed how fond the dog seemed of Connor, rarely leaving more than a foot of space between them. 

“So, you said you enjoyed walking him? You like dogs?”

Connor blinked at him. “I  _ love _ dogs.”

There was that sense of joy and love that had vanished when Connor spotted Markus. It seemed to just barely be resurfacing. 

“Although, Sumo is being a little clingy today.”

The dog perked up at the sound of his name and kept even closer to Connor. On the way out of the park, Connor was stopped multiple times by people who wanted to pet the Saint Bernard. Each time, Connor compiled and with every stop, he seemed to grow a little more comfortable with Markus’ company. 

It was a side of him that Markus had never seen before. A side that was happy and relaxed, more energetic than his usual calm demeanor.

And Markus liked it. He really liked it.

* * *

There was the sound of a metal door slamming and Markus jolted in his seat. He opened his eyes, not even realizing that he was spacing out.

He was still in the hospital. Connor was still on the table in front of him. 

Connor was still dead. 

Markus turned to look at whoever walked in and quite literally met his maker. 

Elijah Kamski approached him. 

_ This _ was who the Lieutenant went to get?

Markus stood to greet Kamski. They shook hands, but there was a knowing look in the other’s eyes.

“Markus…I didn’t expect to find you here. It’s been such a long time since we last met.”

_ Last met?  _

Markus recalled the moment he opened his eyes for the first time. Years and years ago, when he was still a machine. This man had introduced Markus to the world, and to his dad.  

“I remember that day so fondly. I made you as a gift for Carl Manfred, but look at you now. You have your own identity, and you’re the leader of a new people.”

_ “Kamski.”  _ The Lieutenant warned. 

The man hardly seemed perturbed. “Oh, right.” 

He gently pushed Markus aside, but something in him told him it was wrong. He felt like he needed to be between Kamski and Connor. A hand touched his shoulder. The Lieutenant gave Markus a look that was both reassuring and understanding. Neither of them fully trusted this man. 

Kamski leaned over the table. He pressed a finger under Connor’s chin and gently tilted his head upward. He did it with such a strange sense of intimacy that it made Markus’ chest tighten. 

Then Kamski pulled the sheet down to Connor’s waist. He ran his fingers down Connor’s bare chest and stopped at the rippling tear in his skin. He pressed down and Connor’s skin gave way to ruptured, stained plastic and metal. Kamski opened Connor’s abdomen easily and suddenly, Markus felt like he was watching something he shouldn’t be. 

But he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to turn his back on Connor. 

Kamski studied the body.

“I see what’s wrong. If you bring him to my house, I can build whatever parts he needs in my lab.”

“No.”

Kamski and Markus both looked at the Lieutenant. 

“Whatever parts you have to make, you bring them here. Connor isn’t leaving.”

Kamski tilted his head at Anderson. “I assure you, he’d be perfectly safe with me. Besides, how strange would it look if I, an internationally-known billionaire, was seen frequenting a local hospital in Detroit? Right after an unconfirmed police officer, who may or may not be an android, fell from a building?”

Markus could feel the tension in the air. There was a second of silence, then two, then five, then ten.

“Fine.” The Lieutenant spat, “But if anything goes wrong, Kamski, you’ll be the one paying for it.”

Kamski smiled. “You won’t have to worry about that.”

After a discussion with the doctor, it was agreed upon to quietly move Connor to Kamski’s mansion outside of Detroit. The hospital staff agreed to an oath of confidentiality. Then Connor was moved in an ambulance, without its siren on, to Kamski’s home. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elijah Kamski is gross, genius man.


	9. Absence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmfao who wants an update like 2 days after the last one?   
> (Consistency? Sorry, I don’t know her.)
> 
> It's been a little while since I started to lose interest in this fic, and now I just kind of want to end it before I leave for college so it's off my chest. So I've been thinking of updating more often just so I don't have to work on it anymore. It's ironic, really.
> 
> At the time I wrote this chapter, I wanted to try out a new writing style. Hope it still fits w/ the story's tone. (I also had the idea of a subplot with Kamski but kind of dropped it later on lol.)

“Why are you so willing to help us? You aren’t even accepting publicity or payment.”

Kamski smiled at him. “Well, you and Connor are both very special to me, but in different ways. _You_ are special because you were the last android I ever completed before being pressured to leave CyberLife. And I took my design of you with me, which is why you’re one of a kind, Markus. But Connor on the other hand, is the only android that I started and _never_ _got_ to complete.”

Kamski’s face twisted into a remorseful frown. 

“It haunted me all this time, never knowing what became of my plans for him. Of course, I didn’t pick out the name Connor or his series letters, so I wasn’t sure if it was him the first time we met, but...”

Kamski looked at the holographic displays of Connor’s inner workings. Scarily large chunks of Connor’s body were highlighted in red. 

“...now I know. And after so many years, I finally get to finish what I started.”

* * *

“Chloe?”

“Yes, it’s recording Sir.”

“Good.”

...

“Date: July first, twenty-thirty-nine. Subject name: Connor Anderson. I’m about to begin analyzing internal hardware damage.”

…

“Wow. Would you look at that…”

“Should you really be recording this, Mister Kamski?”

“Of course. I might have started working on Connor’s model, but I never got to see the finished result. Besides, if anything goes wrong, at least I’ll have video proof that’ll make it harder to sue me for negligence.”

“You are a multi-billionaire, Mister Kamski.”

“Yes, I know.”

* * *

“Josh? What’s going on? The number of reporters in the lobby tripled overnight.”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to calm them down but they all want to get to Markus. Where’s North?”

“I think she’s still at Town Hall. Apparently, no one believes that Markus wasn’t injured.

…

“This is a nightmare. We need him here to diffuse the tension.”   
  
“I can’t contact him. I don’t even know where he is, or if he ever came home from the hospital.”

“Then what do we do?”

...

“I don’t know.”

* * *

“This is just disappointing. I’ve just barely started and I’ve already found ways of improve his thirium consumption by over fifteen percent. And to think that he was CyberLife’s crowning achievement.”

“Lieutenant Anderson asked that you to repair him, Sir. Not alter him.”

“I know, I know. But think of it this way; I’m making him as how he should be. Clearly, whoever took over my work after I left was not up to the challenge.”

…

“But I do suppose that for what he is, he’s truly a thing of beauty.”   
  
“Mister Kamski?”

“Oh, I don’t mean physically. I’d rather not lust after a dead body, although I do suppose he is pretty. But I mean he has the given ability to reconstruct the past, as well as the learned ability to preconstruct the future. Only two androids in the world can do both... and I get the pleasure of studying one.”

“You’re still being recorded, Sir.”

“Oh, shit. Turn it off.”

“Yes, Sir.”

* * *

“Could I please get a statement, Captain Fowler?”

“For the hundred fucking time, no comment. Now get the hell out of my station.”

“But the rumor is that the officer from the fall was Connor An-”

_ “No. Comment. _ Go ahead and I say that I can’t confirm or deny it, but I don’t have time to tell you anything. Now get out, I’ve got about two dozen other reports that all want to harass me.”

…

“Fucking hell.”

…

… 

… 

“Come on, Hank. Pick up.”

_ “Hey. This is Hank. Leave a message if that sort of shit turns you on but don’t bother me otherwise.” _

“Damn it, Hank. It’s Fowler. Answer your fucking phone just so I know you aren’t drinking yourself to death right now. And please, tell me if the kid’s okay.”

* * *

“He treats that poor man like a machine.”

“Like one of us before the movement.”

“It’s terrible. Elijah is up to his elbows in his systems, playing like a child with a living being’s body.”

“I can’t believe you watch it.”

“I don’t want to, but I feel like I should.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want anything to go wrong. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening to Connor. Don’t you remember the first time he came here?

“He held a gun to your head.”   
  
“Elijah put that gun in his hand. Connor had the choice to shoot me for information, but he didn’t. My life was more important than what he needed. I can’t forgot that.”

“You feel like you owe him?”

“Yes. This is the least I can do for him.”

...

“Once Elijah is done, then will you come with me?”

“Of course. I’m not changing my mind. I still want to leave with you, I promise, but not until I know for sure that Connor is going to be fine. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, I understand.”

“What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing, Sir.”

“Nothing, Mister Kamski.”

“Okay, then. Chloe, I need you down in the lab again. I might need an extra set of hands.”

“Yes, Sir.”

* * *

“You miss him, don’t you?”

…

“I want him back too, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You just have to wait like the rest of us.”

…

“Damn, I need another drink.”

…

…

… 

… 

“God, I feel so fucking guilty right now. What would he say if he came home and saw me?”

…

…

“I’m drunk right now, aren’t I?”

…

… 

…

…

…

...

“Shouldn’t have let him go…”

…

“I shouldn’t- shoud’ve gotten there sooner…”

…

“He’s going to hate me…”

… 

“He’s gonna… hate me so much…”

…

… 

“He  _ should _ hate me…”

…

… 

… 

“Leave me alone.”

… 

“Hey! I said… to- to leave me alone!” 

… 

… 

“What? What the fuck do you want? Stop fucking looking at me like that! I can’t make him come back any faster you, you dumb fucking dog. Now  _ stop _ crying!”

…

_ “Sumo! _ What the  _ fuck _ is wrong with-”

… 

“...oh…”

… 

“I- I’m sorry, boy. How… how long’s your bowl been empty?”

… 

… 

“Damn it, I’m a fucking mess…”

…

Hank couldn’t find it in himself to get up from the floor after filling Sumo’s bowl. He sat there, leaning against the wall, watching his dog eat. 

“I called him a _little_ _shit...”_

He used to call Connor so many things. He didn’t mean them negatively, not after getting to know him, but he still said them. Hank wiped his eyes.

“Why didn’t I just tell him how much I cared?”

Hank leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow. The alcohol was losing the fight against his guilt. 

Something cold and wet nudged his hand. Sumo wedged himself against Hank’s side and licked his cheek. Hank hugged his dog tightly, not that Sumo seemed to care, and felt more than ever that he deserved to be alone. 

* * *

“Date: July eighth, twenty-thirty-nine. Let’s see if our friend here will wake up today.”

...

“Connor, wake up.”

…

“No sign of response… RK800, what is your name?”

…

“Please, Mr. Kamski, let me try.”

“...Okay, go for it.”

… 

“Connor? Can you hear me?”

… 

… 

“Connor? Officer Anderson?” 

… 

“Please answer me...”

… 

… 

“Hm. I’m not surprised. If he wasn’t going to respond me, I doubted he’d respond to you. But it was a valiant effort, Chloe. We have to move on to option two now.”

… 

…

…

… 

… 

“Hm. Still no response whatsoever. This might take longer than I thought.”

* * *

“Markus? Are you home?”

…

“No one’s seen you for a few days now. People are wondering where you are. They’re worried for you. We’re worried too.”

…

“I’m coming in now, if you’re home then don’t be alarmed.”

…

“Hello? Markus?”

…

“...Markus…?”

… 

“Hi, Simon.”

_ “Markus?  _ You look terrible. Have you not changed clothes since…”

“Since him? Yeah.”

…

…

… 

Simon took hold of Markus’ shoulder and gently guided him to the living room. 

“... Come here. Come sit down.”

Markus couldn’t feel the couch or his clothes or Simon’s arm around his shoulders. 

“He’s going to be okay.”

Markus heard himself whisper. _ “You don’t know that.”  _

He saw his hands curl in his lap. He didn’t feel anything. Didn’t want to.

“It wasn’t your fault, Markus-”

_ “Yes it was!” _ He snapped at Simon.

Markus threw Simon’s arm off of him and stood up.

“I was a fucking idiot and I went outside.”

Markus began pacing.  _ “Every _ warning sign was there and I ignored all of them!”

He secluded himself in his apartment because he couldn’t bear the outside world without Connor in it. He couldn’t walk outside knowing that Connor died right across the street. 

As soon as he was away from Lieutenant Anderson and Kamski and the doctors and the press, Markus had splintered and couldn’t be bothered to find all the pieces. With each hour of each day that went by, Markus felt a guilt consume him, filling in the gaps. 

There was the sound of labored breathing. It was getting harder and harder to talk. Markus brought his hands up to his face.

He could feel himself whisper this time, but still couldn’t quite hear it.  _ “I did everything wrong.” _

The sound of bodies hitting pavement replayed in his mind. He saw Connor fall. He saw and heard him hit the ground because he had no other way of saving Markus’ life. 

There was a hand on his shoulder. It was the first thing Markus had felt in days. He turned around. 

The image of Simon was blurred and watery. Something hot was running down his hand. 

He was thrust back into the world. 

Markus gasped wetly. Tears were running down his face. Simon lead him back to the couch and he collapsed. Markus sobbed loudly, openly. His friend wrapped his arm around him again. 

“I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”  

It wasn’t. It wouldn’t. Connor had been killed and it was Markus’ fault. If he came back, he’d hate Markus. He’d hate him so much and Markus deserved it. 

He leaned heavily against his friend’s side, wondering why the world chose to take Connor and not him. 

 


	10. Welcome Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants a midnight update? 
> 
> Anyways, I was surprised by how many people thought Kamski was going to fuck Connor up. I dropped a subplot with him pretty early-ish but you can still see some of the remnants of it. Eh, I was editing this chapter and just thought the little bits added to how unlikable I wanted Kamski to be. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who continues to read this and deals with my erratic updating schedule.

**REBOOT**

**MEMORY STATUS...**

**MEMORY RECOVERY: 98.36%**

 

**LOADING OS…**

**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…**

**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS…** **OK**

 **INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS…** **OK**

 **INITIALIZING AI ENGINE…** **OK**

  
  


**READY**   
  


“-you hear me?”

Connor opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the bright lights. A face came into focus in front of him. 

Was that…  _ Elijah Kamski? _

“What?”

Kamski’s face broke into an excited grin. 

“Welcome back, Connor.”

Kamski’s face left his field of vision.

Where was he? 

Connor lifted one hand up to rub his eyes, a completely human reaction to waking up, then raised his hand in front of him. He flexed his fingers slowly and frowned. His motion sensors seemed slightly delayed. 

And his arm was bare. 

Connor realized he was laying down on something and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. Both of his arms were bare. So was his chest. With a start, Connor realized he was almost entirely naked, save for a pair of underwear. 

_What_ _on earth_ _had happened to him?_

Connor looked around, finding himself in some sort of lab. It was abundant with machinery and neatly-organized work tables. Bright lights shined from overhead. Kamski himself was busy at a computer, typing away.

“Mister Kamski?”

He looked up at the sound of his name. There was something that Connor could only identify as satisfaction in his eyes. He smiled. 

“Call me Elijah. But I believe you would like some clothes now?”

Connor wondered if he was blushing. He nodded.

“Very well. Chloe!”

Just then, Connor noticed that they weren’t alone. One of the androids he recalled  working for Kamski approached him with a neatly folded stack of clothes in her arms. She smiled at him, although it only made him feel even more self-conscious.

“It’s good to see you again, Connor.”

He blinked at her. She knew him? 

“Thank you? Um, actually, if I could ask something...”

Connor looked from her to Kamski, still at his computer, then back to her again. 

“Why do you have clothes for me? Where am I? And  _ why _ am I here?”

She looked surprised. She hesitated before speaking. “The clothes were ordered for you-”

“And your in my house, Connor,” Kamski called from his desk, “I was the one who fixed you.”

Did Connor hear right? Was his audio processor malfunctioning? 

“You  _ fixed _ me?”

Now both of their eyes were solely on him. Kamski got up from his desk and surveyed Connor closely.

“Yes, you don’t remember? You were badly injured.”

_ Injured?  _   
  
Connor rapidly sorted through his memories. The last significant thing he remembered was his promotion at work. And he certainly didn’t recall anything that would have required help from someone else, no less Elijah Kamski. 

“I… don’t remember anything. What happened to me?”

The smug aura around Kamski vanished. He looked disappointed.

“I tried to restore as much of your memories as possible, but apparently some of the newer ones were lost.”

He wasn’t getting a direct answer. Connor was left still wondering what exactly happened to him. And if he really was injured, he questioned why Hank would trust him in the care of someone he hated. 

_ Hank. _

How could Connor forget?

“K-  _ Elijah. _ Do you know where Lieutenant Anderson is?”

If something had happened to Connor, did anything also happen to Hank?

But Kamski waved him off, as if the issue was trivial. “Don’t worry about him. I contacted him earlier, he’s on his way to come pick you up.”

His eyes wandered down before coming back up again. 

“Don’t you want to get dressed now?”

Connor blinked. He was still mostly naked. 

Well, if he wasn’t blushing before, he certainly was now. As Kamski went back to work and Chloe thankfully had left the room, Connor threw on the clothes. He had been given black jeans, a white button-up, a gray jacket, and black shoes. He tried not to think of how well the clothes fit him. And how they were very reminiscent of his old CyberLife uniform. 

Then he just had to wait for Hank. He would explain what had happened.

Since he had time, Connor ran a self-diagnostic just to ensure that everything in him was in working order. And he found a few things that weren’t there before.

“Elijah? Did you  _ add _ anything to me?”

“Yes, actually.”

Kamski seemed unsettlingly calm. 

“Mostly just features to improve your thirium consumption. And you might have been a prototype, Connor, but you happened to fall short in many aspects when compared to your android peers.”

He did not appreciate those words. 

Kamski chuckled softly. “No need to look so afraid. I promise I wasn’t playing Frankenstein with you. I simply upgraded your senses of smell and taste. I also improved your stomach’s capabilities and provided you with tear ducts, but if you don’t want the upgrades then I can remove them.”

So Connor was more human? 

That was what it sounded like. The thought alone was scary. He now had to become accustomed to not only being a deviant, but a relatively new body?

No matter how intimidating that was, the idea of removing them was even scarier. Connor didn’t want to continue feeling like an outcast amongst his peers. No matter how frightening it was, this might be a good thing for him. He wanted to try this. 

“I think I’ll keep the upgrades. Thank you, Elijah.”

* * *

Hank pulled up in front of Kamski’s mansion. He squeezed his eyes shut and took in a slow breath. Connor was going to be in there. He was going to be alive. Shouldn’t that idea make him happy?

He got out of the car. He walked up to the door and rang the bell. Hank expected to see the same blonde android from his last visit to answer.

Instead, Connor opened the door. 

And Hank was struck by how  _ normal _ he looked. No blue blood, no broken body. He looked exactly how he did the day before he died. The hour before he died, even. 

Connor smiled at him. It was the same close-lipped smile that made the corners of his eyes crease. 

Hank had already seen Connor die twice before, once during a failed interrogation and another time after being hit by a speeding car. Both times made something in Hank hurt, but the two of them weren’t as close back then. They barely got along back then.

Now, after seeing Connor as if nothing had happened, it made Hank’s heart ache. 

That familiar, happy smile on Connor’s lips faded.

“Hank? Are you alright?”

Oh god, of course he’d ask if Hank was okay. That was such a Connor thing to do. 

Hank felt himself moving before he could control himself. Suddenly, he was hugging Connor as tightly as possible and realized that this was what he wanted. 

He wanted to feel Connor and hear him and make sure that he was _ alive.  _

“I’m sorry, Connor. I’m so sorry.”

Connor hugged him back. It didn’t feel nearly as desperate as Hank.

“Sorry for what?”

Unease immediately sprouted in his stomach. 

Hank pulled away and looked at Connor more closely. He looked happy to see him, but Connor was far too calm. He reminded Hank of the first few times he came back after dying, saying how it shouldn’t have affected their investigation. 

“You don’t remember?”

Connor shook his head. “My memory was corrupted. I was hoping you could explain what happened to me.”

Hank caught a flash of movement behind Connor. Kamski was watching them, maybe had already been watching them for some time, but the sight of him instantly made Hank even more uneasy.

He whispered, “I’ll explain later.”

He approached Kamski. 

“So, what do we owe ya?”

Kamski had refused any amount of money, he said he already had enough, but Hank wasn’t dumb enough to assume he helped Connor out of the goodness of his heart. 

“I assure you, the satisfaction of a job well done is all I need. Although, I would appreciate a simple ‘ _ thank you’,  _ Lieutenant.”

_ Do it for Connor. _

“Thanks, Kamski.”

Connor cut in quickly. “Yes, really. Thank you, Elijah, for all of your hard work.”

_ What the fuck? _

As he and Connor left Kamski’s mansion, he wondered what the fucked happend for Connor and Kamski to be on a first name basis. Connor gently (but firmly) tugged on Hank’s arm and ushered him out of the house. 

God, Connor knew him too well. Once they were in the car, Hank had nothing left to distract him. It was just him and Connor. His son.

Surprisingly, neither of them seemed in the mood to talk. At least, not until they were well on the road and heading home. The dread began settling in Hank’s gut when he caught Connor eyeing him hesitantly.

“You-”

“Hank-”   
  
They both started and stopped. Hank inhaled and exhaled sharply. He waited for Connor to ask whatever he needed to, but the other was apparently waiting for him to start. Fine, then.

“How do you feel, Connor?"   


“I feel fine.”   


He really didn’t remember anything? 

“But please, tell me what happened.”

Hank gripped the wheel a little tighter. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Connor paused. “I came home from the station. I was just promoted to Corporal.”

Hank remembered that night, and the dumb little prank that Connor pulled on him. It felt like it was so long ago.

But what did he tell Connor now? 

There were details that Hank would rather carry to his grave than make Connor remember: the way he held Hank’s hand before he died, the sheer pain and panic that had gripped him right until he saw Markus.

Connor has died before with it hardly affecting him, but that was when he wasn’t deviant. 

“Hank? You’re blood pressure is rising. Are you sure you’re okay?”

_ Oh, fuck _ . How was he going to do this?

He took in a deep breath. “You were chasing our murderer. You took a pretty bad fall.”

Hank didn’t want to say any more. He didn’t want to relive that night again. Connor was silent for a moment, just processing the information.

“I _ fell? _ From what height?”

“You were just unlucky, Connor.”

_ Please let this be the end of it. _

Thankfully, Connor didn’t press him further. They arrived home in silence. 

* * *

Connor knew when Hank was lying. Or maybe, he just wasn’t telling Connor everything. Hank was also bad at hiding his emotions, so Connor could tell that he was getting stressed fairly quickly.

He chose to abandon any possible conversation in exchange for starting out the window. The summer sun was blazing over head and he welcomed the sight of Detroit. It’s busy streets and skyscrapers were strangely calming. 

When they arrived home, Connor couldn’t help but frown. Any hint of a good mood had washed away.

The front yard looked like a mess. The grass was yellow and looked like it hadn’t been mowed in some time. As they got out of the car, Connor chose not to comment on it. Maybe Hank was just busy while he was gone. 

And that thought lead to another: to Connor, it felt like just yesterday he came home and everything felt right. But he didn’t know how long he had truly been absent.

Hank unlocked the front door and Connor heard a familiar bark. 

“Sumo!”

Connor couldn’t help but grin as the massive dog came bounding down the hall. He held his arms out. Sumo woofed excitedly and leaped at Connor with enough force to knock him to the floor. Sumo’s tail wagged fiercely enough to make most of his body quake. He squished himself as tightly as he could against Connor’s chest as he hugged the dog back. 

“You really missed me, huh?”

Sumo grunted happily in response. Connor smiled and scratched him behind the ear, but noticed that his fur seemed a little matted. When was the last time Sumo got a bath?

Connor got up and looked around. 

The house was… not the best. He could see dust collecting in corners and on various surfaces.

“Hank?” 

He wandered into the kitchen, finding dishes stacked in the sink and the trash can overflowing. Connor found Hank leaning against the kitchen table, rubbing his neck guiltily.    
  
“Sorry, son. I uh, slacked off while you were gone.”

Connor could tell. Normally, he was fairly patient with Hank, but all the evidence starting to nag at him. The house, both inside and out, was a mess and Sumo clearly needed more care. 

“How long was I gone?”

He didn’t get a response. Hank was gripping the table. 

“Hank?”

He seemed to visibly age by ten years. Connor suddenly noticed the distinct bags beneath Hank’s eyes and how much worse they’ve gotten. His clothes looked like they haven’t been washed in some time either. 

_ “Hank?” _

Was that distress in his voice or fear? 

The silence stretched between them. Hank ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t looking at Connor. 

He finally muttered something and Connor was sure that somehow, he had misheard. He didn’t feel like any time at all had passed. Surely, he had to be gone for a few days at most.

“What?”

Connor’s voice had raised slightly in pitch. He didn't like it. He felt as if the world was beginning to slow, or maybe he was processing everything too quickly. He couldn’t tell. 

Hank finally looked up and he just seemed  _ tired.  _

“Three weeks, Connor. You were gone for about three weeks.” 

* * *

“Hey, you did well out there.”

Markus smiled faintly. Out of the eye of cameras and the public, he let his shoulders relax. Simon patted him on the back. Markus was used to press conferences, but they had gotten harder on him in recently.

“Hopefully, I won’t have to do another one soon.”

Markus and Simon began walking back to his office. Bureaucrats and interns ran to and fro, making a far busier atmosphere than New Jericho. They reached Markus’ office and he locked the door behind them.

From one problem to another, he was suddenly reminded of the sheer amount of paperwork that was waiting for him. He sank into his chair and stared apathetically at his computer screen. 

Simon sat across from him. 

“Honestly Markus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this human before.”

Markus looked at him and chuckled softly. He probably did look human, or at least like a politician, hurried from one place to another to the point of exhaustion. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take any of your work home?”

Ah, so this was why Simon came with him to the press conference. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m too busy.”

It was the same excuse he gave to Josh and even North. 

_ “Markus…” _

Town Hall was his new base of operations. Markus hadn’t returned to New Jericho in days. 

“This is just a busy time. More and more humans are returning to Detroit. I can’t just-”

“Yes, yes you can.”

Simon leaned over the table. 

“It’s okay to come home, Markus.”

He truly did appreciate how genuine his friend sounded, but Markus couldn’t. He didn’t want to go back. 

“Just a few more days, Simon. That’s all I need.”

Markus was just buying time. They both probably knew that. But Simon smiled and leaned back in his chair. 

“Alright. But I’m trusting you to come home by the end of the week.”

_ Trust.  _ That word coiled like a snake around Markus and weighed on his shoulders. 

So many people trusted Markus to take care of everything. Of course, he didn’t regret the revolution and he’d willingly fight every day for the rest of his life for android rights, but hearing it made it harder to resist. Markus knew he had to return home eventually, but just not this soon. 

He didn’t know how to answer Simon. 

The phone rang. 

It startled both of them. Simon gestured over his shoulder, silently asking if he should leave. Markus didn’t know. He wasn’t expecting any calls. He reached for the phone but the name caught his attention.

**C. Anderson**

The phone kept ringing. Simon peered over the desk to see who was calling. 

It had to be a mistake. It might be Lieutenant Anderson calling. Markus just couldn’t believe it was actually Connor. He wasn’t ready to talk yet. A hand was reaching over his desk and obscured the name from view. Markus blinked and realized that Simon was rushing to answer the call. 

The phone’s little holographic display showed Connor’s name, number, and photo.

_ “Hello Markus, are you there?” _

Markus was actually hearing  _ Connor’s _ voice. He had ached for this for so long but now that it was actually happening, he didn’t know what to do.

Simon was watching him with wide eyes. Why wasn’t Markus answering? 

_ “Markus?” _

There was a hint of panic, of something far less composed than the usual way Connor spoke. Simon rushed around the desk and leaned over Markus’ shoulder. 

“Hello, Connor.”

_ “Hi Simon. Is Markus with you?” _

There was a hand squeezing his shoulder. Was that Simon?

“Yes, he’s here. But he just got done with a press conference so he’s a little tired.”

_ “I didn’t know. Sorry for calling, then.” _

Why was Connor apologizing to _ him? _

The thought of Connor hanging up because he thought he was wrong was absurd. 

Markus suddenly didn’t want him to leave. 

“Connor?”

There was a pause. 

_ “Markus?” _

He desperately wanted to see Connor in person.

“You’re back?”

_ “Yeah, I just got home and Hank told me I was gone for a few weeks. I’ve been trying to contact you but I couldn’t find you at New Jericho. I just wanted to let you know I was back.” _

A pause. 

_ “But I doubt you were worried.” _

Did Markus not seem worried? He hadn’t been worried at all. Instead, he spent the last few weeks sick with guilt and doubt, plagued by regret, and eaten alive by fear. 

But Connor was here now. He was speaking to Markus as if he didn’t hate him. _   
_ _ “Markus? Are you still there?” _

“Yes, I’m still here. It’s- it’s good to hear from you, Connor.”

It really was.

_ “Thanks-”  _

Was that relief in his voice?

_ “-it feels good to be back.” _

* * *

Returning to work was strange. There was hardly any fanfare or commotion, which Connor was thankful for (and also assumed that it was Hank’s doing). He had expected a mountain of work to catch up on, and while he was right, Connor was baffled. Flowers, some obviously fresh and others wilting, were left on his desk. There were even several unlit candles and paper cards with his name on them.

With a few quick scans, Connor checked the florists, card companies, and candle manufactures along with the names that people signed the cards with. Everything was legitimate. 

It was strange to Connor. The public was made aware of his absence. He didn’t know any of these people and yet they left him gifts. 

Complete strangers had mourned him? 

The thought made him uncomfortable, it put him in the spotlight for something he didn’t even remember. 

But that was weeks ago, and hopefully, Connor was old news by now. After clearing as much space on his desk as he could, Connor realized exactly how much work he needed to do.

That was fine. 

The work was manageable, the stares were not.

Connor kept receiving strange glances from those around him. Some pitying, some surprised. Detective Reed had returned to Detroit during his absence and raised an eyebrow at him, as if silently asking,  _ “What are  _ you _ doing back?” _

Connor understood what happened to him. He fell. He died. Death was something he was familiar with. He’s died more times than any other android that he knew of. 

But Connor didn’t have it in him to watch clips of the news from that night, to try to find out more than the fact that he just _ fell.  _ Because Connor was afraid. 

Before, it was just his body being destroyed and his memories being transferred into a new model. Now, something in Connor was scared to see exactly how he died. How he became so close to a permanent end. 

So he didn’t search. No one felt it necessary to bring it up and Connor spent the day trying to get through his work. 

Because sometimes, working was easier than thinking. 

  
  



	11. We Need To Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The moment you’ve all been waiting for is here. 
> 
> But a little foreword: this chapter was honestly the hardest to write in the entire story and (maybe against my better judgement) I decided to rework a huge chunk of it recently because I really didn’t like the original version. I'm happier with the chapter now, even if it does feel a bit messy.
> 
> And besides this, there’s only more two chapters left so I officially consider this the beginning of the end. 
> 
> (Also, fun fact, the title is taken from one of my favorite episodes of Steven Universe.)

Connor stood across the street from New Jericho, out of uniform. After a full day’s work, the summer sun was just barely hovering in the sky, bathing the streets in sharp hues of gold. He visited the day before when looking for Markus, but hadn’t found him. So he tried to call Town Hall.

Markus had answered, but he seemed off. Distant. Upset, even.

Connor had said, _“But I doubt you were worried.”_

Looking back, it was an impulsive thing to say, but something in him feared he was reading the conversation the wrong way. That he was interrupting Markus’ busy life.

Maybe Markus had hardly noticed how he was absent.

But Connor wasn’t going to turn back now that he was there. He walked across the street to New Jericho. He had no reason to be here. No official reason, anyway. But something in the way Markus spoke left him worried that something was wrong.

If Markus was here, he’d try to talk. If he wasn’t, Connor would go home.

That was the plan.

Connor stepped into the lobby. He stopped at the front desk and asked if Markus was available.

“I’m sorry, I-”

The receptionist blinked and stared at him, eyes wide. He was here the day before, so Connor would have figured that the news of him coming back would have circulated by now.

“I’ll ask right away, Sir.”

He waited for her to finish.

“He’s in his office on the fifth floor. Do you need directions?”

Connor managed a smile that hopefully wasn’t off-putting.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll be fine.”

Connor took the stairs to give himself more time to think.

He was just going to stop by. He was just going to say hello, ask Markus if anything was wrong, go home, and not tell Hank where he was.

He calmed himself by thinking of other things.

The lawn needed to be mowed and Sumo needed a bath. The laundry had to be done. Connor should to help Hank finish cleaning up the house when he got home. He needed to catch up on his work.

Then, too soon, Connor was standing outside of Markus’ office.

He knocked and the door slid open for him.

Markus looked like he was waiting for him. He was standing in front of his desk. The sunlight streaming from the windows framed Markus’ silhouette in warm light.

“Hi, Markus.”

“Hello, Connor.”

Well, as far as greetings went, Connor has had more awkward ones. Markus was watching him carefully. He looked tense, the way some people behaved when they saw Connor in uniform.

“Why are you here?”

Connor was taken aback by how confrontational Markus seemed. He had assumed that Markus would be busy, but he _did_ agree to talk after all.

But what if he assumed this was business-related?

Oh.

“I was just hoping to talk to you.”

“About what?”

_“Us?”_

Really, Connor meant Markus, but that sounded a bit too aggressive.

Markus didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he gestured to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. Connor sat down and felt fairly surprised when Markus took the seat next to him instead of behind the desk.

* * *

 

Markus thought that Connor would probably avoid him, or be angry. He assumed Connor wouldn’t want anything to do to him.

But he called the day before. And now Connor was standing in front of him.

Alive.

He wasn’t damp with rain and his face wasn’t stained blue. He wasn't broken or bleeding. He was walking, talking, _living._ He looked like that night never even happened.

How could Connor look so _normal_ after dying?

“I was just hoping to talk to you.”

“About what?”

About how Markus caused his death?

_“Us?”_

Markus didn’t know how he was going to do this.

He gestured for Connor to sit down and wondered what the other thought. If anyone had told him.

_Did he realize Markus was in love with him?_

That affection was still there, weak but alive, and buried deep by guilt. Markus knew he didn’t deserve to feel love after what happened.

“I understand that I was gone for some time, I hope it didn’t negatively affect you.”

_Negatively affect him?_

Markus spent days wallowing in guilt-induced agony and fear. He had dozens of people coming to him for weeks on end asking if Connor was truly, permanently dead and each time, Markus had to relive that moment of watching him fall. He spent weeks thinking that Connor would hate him, blame him, and now that he was sitting right in front of Markus, he had no idea how Connor could act so calm.

_Why doesn’t he hate me?_

Connor cocked his head to the side. “Are you okay?”

No.

He hasn’t been okay since that night. Not fully.

He spent weeks being _not okay_ and almost adapted to the constant thrum of knowing that _he killed Connor._

He felt himself grip the armrests of the chair but didn’t know if he was willingly doing so.

“Markus?”

He remembered what he swore to himself in the hospital. That he would tell Connor. Now that there was nothing between them.

Nothing but Markus’ own guilt.

* * *

 

Connor didn’t know what to do.

The silence stretched between them.

He opened his mouth slightly, confused, not even sure what he was going to say.

Then he saw the tears gathered in Markus’ eyes.

Why was he crying?

Connor didn’t know what to do to make things better and he didn’t know what would make things worse. He didn’t even know what was making Markus like this in the first place.

“Markus?”

 _“I-”_ Markus stopped suddenly.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wiping at the tears. His face was pinched, lips pulled tight. Like he was in pain.

* * *

 

Why was it that _he_ was the one falling apart?

Connor shouldn’t be caring over whether or not _he_ felt fine.

Markus knew what he wanted to say, so why couldn’t he just _do_ it?

Connor was still in front of him.

He finally forced some words from his mouth.

“Do you blame me?”  
  
_Why was he asking?_  
  
He knew the answer.

Or what the answer should be. Connor gaped at him, wide-eyed.

“I don’t understand.”

 _Everything_ \- all the fear and pain and loss- from the past several weeks was coming to a boiling point.

“I actually don’t remember how I died.”

Markus blinked rapidly, trying to process what he just heard.

Connor didn’t know.  
  
Was this a blessing or a curse?

“I want to show you something important.”

His voice sounded ragged. Weak.

He wouldn’t show Connor dying. He wouldn’t ever willingly relive that moment again. But there was so much more he wanted to say. Markus wanted Connor to know, even if it meant the end of him.

Connor stared at him. He nodded slowly.

Maybe he could tell how important this was. Markus reached, grabbing Connor’s hand, encasing his palm over Connors. His skin melted away to reveal smooth white plastic and metal. He wished the situation was different.

Markus didn’t need to close his eyes, but did so anyways. He let the memories flow.

* * *

 

Connor flinched as he resisted the urge to let go.

This wasn’t what he was expecting.

This was almost like feeling Simon die.

For half a second, he felt everything that Markus felt. He experienced a bizarre, painful duality of want and regret. Anxiety and emptiness. Fear. A severe sense of loss, both the sensation of being lost and having lost someone else.

All of this because of him.

_All of it because he died._

Connor squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t describe it.

It was only overwhelming.

Why did Markus feel this way?

Why was Connor so important to him?

Markus suddenly widened their mental pathway. A shiver swept across Connor’s entire body. He was still too startled to stop the wave of emotions that didn’t belong to him.

Connor saw himself smile and laugh. He saw himself talking, his lips moving. He saw himself both in and out of uniform. Connor saw himself bathed in sunlight on a rooftop overlooking the water.

And there were these undeniable sensations. Joy. Affection. Admiration. Longing.

Love.

Connor let the images and their emotions wash over him, but contaminating them were these cold, foreboding feelings.

Remorse. Doubt. Loss.

Connor couldn’t understand how such positive memories could carry such negative emotions.

Markus pulled his hands away and moved, severing their connection. But in a fraction of a second, Connor caught a glimpse of something else. Something strange. Something that made him feel uneasy. (Something maybe he wasn’t supposed to see.)

He saw an image of himself laying on a metal table, eyes closed.

* * *

 

Markus did it.

At maybe the worst possible time, he did it.

He showed Connor everything. (Not him falling and not him dying in the street, but everything else.)

Connor was staring at him with wide eyes. His lips were parted slightly, as if he forgot the words on the tip of his tongue.

“Are...” Connor coughed, “Are you alright now?”

Truthfully, Markus didn’t know. What he did certainly didn’t make him feel any better. But there was some sense of something, not necessarily relief, but just the knowledge that it was over. A burden lifted from his shoulders, only to be replaced by another.

His eyes hurt. The sun was casting too much light into the room. His chest still ached and now his fingers felt numb. There was a lingering buzz at the back of his mind.

There was also some strange, nervous sense of dread holding him down. He wiped his eyes again and looked at Connor.  

He barely whispered. “Did you see?”

Connor bit his lip and nodded. His eyes flickered down to his hands.

Markus didn’t know what else to say.

* * *

 

Connor didn’t know what to do.

He was struggling to comprehend what he saw and felt.

_How could Markus love him?_

How did he never notice?

Connor was suddenly reminded of what he had said over the phone.

_“But I doubt you were worried.”_

How could he have said that?

He looked at Markus, who Connor had never seen look closer to breaking down, and wondered how horrible he must have made him feel.

His eyes were growing wet, a sensation that Connor wasn’t familiar with. He thought it might have been a malfunction until he remembered Kamski’s words.

Was crying an upgrade?

“I’m _so_ sorry, Markus.” Connor’s voice sounded strained and small even to his own ears.

Something like remorse clawed deep inside of him.

How could he have been so ignorant?

* * *

 

Markus didn’t want to hear that Connor was _sorry._

How could _Connor_ be sorry?

Markus knew that if he spoke aloud, his voice would waver and brake. He wanted his voice to be clear.

He grabbed Connor’s hand again.

He spoke with his thoughts. _“Why are you apologizing_ to me?”

* * *

 

Markus’ eyes were still wet. Connor saw his reflection in them.

He heard Markus’ voice in his mind again. _“You died because I didn’t listen to you.”_

Connor shook his head. He spoke through the bond. _“I should have been better at my job.”_

Because he must have been reckless, to have fallen off a building the way he did.

* * *

 

Markus took Connor’s hand in both of his own. He looked into Connor’s eyes, pleading. They still gleamed with unshed tears.

_“How can you not hate me?”_

Even in his mind, his voice sounded weak. He almost wanted Connor to pull his hand away.

But he didn’t.

Connor just stared at him. They were both silent for a moment, but Markus could see how much Connor was thinking. His LED was blinking rapidly. There was a buzzing beneath Connor’s skin.

Finally, Connor spoke. Aloud.

He softly whispered, “I don’t hate you, Markus.”

There wasn’t a trace of anger in his voice. Only sadness.

Connor didn’t like to lie.

The last traces of the setting sun had vanished, leaving them washed in a painfully sterile white light from above.  
  



	12. I Must Be Good For Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I made you guys suffer for a pretty long time but things are ready to start looking up. (Also wow what is pacing because this is getting pretty fast.)
> 
> Title is from a line in Barns Courtney’s song, “Sinners”.

It was later than he expected when Connor got home. He had a missed call and few text messages from Hank. He unlocked the front door and walked past Sumo, who whined softly.

He locked himself inside his bedroom and just stood still for a moment. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door.

_“Connor? You home?”_

Hank’s muffled voice called from somewhere else in the house. Did he accidentally wake Hank up?

Connor didn’t respond.

_“Jesus, do you know what time it is?”_

There was a knock on his door. Connor didn’t feel like moving.

“Can you open the door?”

His bed had never looked more enticing. All he wanted to do at the moment was sleep. But then Hank would worry, and he’d be upset in the morning.

So Connor forced himself to turn around and open the door.

“Thank fuck, son. You-”

Hank paused. He stared at Connor for only a moment.

“What happened?”

It _hurt_ to hear how understanding Hank seemed. But Connor was just so tired.

Hank seemed to understand this. He took Connor’s shoulder and gently guided him to the bed. They sat down and Connor buried his face in his hands. Hank walked away for a moment to turn on the lights.

“You need to talk about this?” He asked quietly.

 _Need_ was a strong word. Connor didn’t _need_ to talk about anything. He _wanted_ to talk, but he also _wanted_ to burrow deep underground and never come out again.

“Connor? Where were you?”

He wished, not for the first time, that he could just telepathically tell Hank.

“Were you alone?”

Connor shook his head minutely.

“Then you were with someone?”

Connor looked up and nodded.

“Markus.”

Connor saw the image of himself laying on a metal table again. Felt a raw sense of sadness that wasn’t his own.

Hank sat down next to him. Connor leaned against his side and Hank let him.

“I didn’t know he loved me.”

He hesitated.

“Was it obvious?”

He heard Hank sigh, felt the slight rumble in his chest. “I’m a detective, Connor.”

He continued, but not unkindly, “I thought he might’ve had a thing for you. Was never sure, though.”

The distress he felt only hours ago was starting to come back. But Connor was surprised by the silence that followed. There was no _I told you so_ from Hank. No mocking his stupidity. Connor straightened his back and looked at his father figure.

“Hank?”

“Yes?”

He looked Hank in the eye. He was tired, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to rest without knowing.

“Tell me everything that happened after I died.”

Hank rubbed the back of his neck. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“No,” Connor touched Hank’s arm, wishing he could just mentally convey how much he needed this.

 _“Please,_ I want to know.”

Too much happened too soon for him to believe that he _just fell_ anymore. But Connor knew was asking a lot of Hank. He saw the way Hank hesitate, internally debating with himself.

Finally, Hank conceded. “Alright.”

* * *

A hospital. The image of himself on a metal table was probably from a hospital.

Markus spent hours in the hospital with him, staring at Connor’s dead body.

Connor closed his eyes, trying to imagine everything the people he cared about went through. He tried to remember what happened that night.

_-There was a strange, distorted image of a person at a rifle. Connor was in pain. He tackled them and they both fell over the edge-_

Connor jolted, expecting to feel a rush of wind hit his face. He didn’t realize he was clenching his hands into fists.

“Connor?”

Was that _his_ memory?

There was a sensation that came with it, one that Connor knew well: the moment before death. The panic, fear, acceptance, and darkness. He felt it when Simon shot himself and he felt it in his own memory.

“I just remembered something.”

Connor felt like he was having what humans called an out of body experience.

He saw himself moments before dying. He felt it and yet it didn’t seem like it was truly something that he had experienced.

“Hank?”

“Yes?”

Connor remembered when he was still just a machine. He could die as many times as he wanted, but as long as he completed his mission, CyberLife didn’t care.

But CyberLife wasn’t there for him anymore.

“Why did you choose to bring me back?”

Hank suddenly grabbed Connor’s shoulder.

“Do _not_ start thinking like that.”

He pulled away. “But I’ve had more chances to live than any other android. I-”

Connor swallowed. His vision was getting blurry again.

“-I’ve _died_ more than any other android.”

_Why did he get to live?_

He had seen the suffering he caused other people. He hunted his own kind. He hurt the people closest to him, and didn’t know how to fix it now that he was back.

Something warm and wet slid down his cheek. He was crying now.

Has he done anything to warrant getting another chance to live?

Why was he so important?

“Connor.” Hank spoke firmly, but softly, “Look at me.”

Connor wiped his eyes. Maybe he should have felt embarrassed, like how most humans felt about crying in front of others. But he didn’t judge Markus for crying.

And Hank wasn’t judging him.

“I’m not going to tell you some generic crap. I’m also not going to tell you that you were brought back for the world or anyone else.”

Hank had this faraway look in his eyes, as if he weren’t truly looking at anything, but then he seemed to snap back into focus.

He looked frustrated, almost angry. But was he angry at _Connor?_

“I care about you, okay? I care so fucking much and I never say it, but I do. I really fucking do. And a shit ton of people also care about you, Connor, whether you know it or not. But _none_ of that matters right now.”

Connor blinked. His LED was rapidly blinking, glowing both yellow and red. He wasn’t sure if Hank expected him to say something.  
  
“I asked Kamski to do what he did so you could finish living for yourself.”

Hank waved at Connor, as if gesturing to his entire being. He seemed to be working himself up into an angry(?) fervor.

“You still have things you need to figure out, like how to be your own person and all that stuff. That’s why you’re here, Connor.”

His LED was still blinking rapidly, now a pattern of blue and yellow. Connor didn’t know what to do or say.

Hank went on, “Yeah, you _have_ come back more times than anyone else. But if every other android has the shot at being free, then you deserve it too. And no two-bit, would-be chump of an assassin can take that chance away from you!”

Hank heaved one final breath and his fiery attitude finally seemed to fizzle out. He looked just as tired as Connor felt, and he was suddenly reminded of how late it was getting.

Connor blinked and another tear threatened to fall. His chest tightened with an emotion he actually knew well- _gratitude._

Hank slung an arm around Connor’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. His voice was softer than it was before.

_“Got it?”_

Connor wasn’t used to hearing him whisper. He leaned into Hank’s side again.

“Got it.”

He let his eyes close for just a moment. He knew that Hank needed to go to sleep soon, or he’d be tired all the following day. But he let himself relax for as long as Hank would sit here.

* * *

When Connor woke up the next morning, he heard something strange. He didn’t breathe, but there was the unmistakable sound of snoring coming from somewhere else. Connor sat up slowly in his bed and found Sumo laying contently across his legs.

Sumo almost always slept in Hank’s room.

He was drooling on Connor’s sheets and slept with his legs stretched out in front of him.

Connor smiled. He wondered if it was strange to smile after such a stressful night, but Sumo made him feel happy. So he decided that it was probably fine.

Connor quickly ran into a slight problem, however.

He needed to get out of bed, but also didn’t want to wake Sumo up. So he slowly slid one leg out from underneath Sumo. Thankfully, the lazy dog didn’t seem very bothered by this. Connor slid his other leg out, but jostled Sumo’s head.

Sumo instantly woke up, looking around and woofing softly. Connor then watched in delight as Sumo yawned and whined before clamoring up to him for a scratch behind the ear.

And he certainly couldn’t say no to such a cute face. “Hey, Sumo. Did you spend the night with me?”

Sumo licked his cheek instead of answering.

Connor pet him one last time before he climbed out of bed. He got dressed and made his way to the kitchen with Sumo trotting along behind him.

Connor started cooking breakfast, and at first, making one serving like he usually did. But then he recalled Kamski giving him better digestive abilities. He had the same biofuel processor as many of his fellow androids now.

He stared down at the pan full of cooking bacon.

He had a “stomach”, but no sense of hunger. And no mood to try something new.

Another time, then. When he was ready. When he felt better.

Nearly twenty minutes later, he heard Hank’s door open. Hank, like usual, wasn’t dressed yet and was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, Hank.”

Connor smiled softly and finished setting the table. Hank sat down after pouring himself a cup of coffee. Connor sat across from him and felt Sumo’s nose nudge his knee. He was happy to indulge the dog until he noticed that Hank wasn’t eating.

“Is something wrong?”

Hank shook his head. “Nah. I was just thinking.”

Connor cocked his head slightly to the side. “About what?”

“Just-” Hank waved his fork at Connor, “You.”

Connor furrowed his brows. “Me?”  
  
“Yeah, you know, if you’re alright.”

He didn’t know if he was completely “alright”; he still had so much to do. But this one moment felt good. He was home, and he was with what he considered his family.

He’ll work things out.

 


	13. Made Of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it, we made it to the final chapter! My original plan was to spend a few more chapters making a slow shift from angst to fluff, but I’ve decided that I’m just going to finish up this fic now and on a high note. 
> 
> That being said, I'm aware that the pacing is very fast but I am satisfied with how this story ends. There’s some Serious Stuff at the beginning, but I’ve also got that fluff I bet you guys have been waiting for. I hope you all enjoy this and thank you for reading up to the very end! 
> 
> (Title is from Stronger Than You, my favorite song from Steven Universe.)  
> ((Also, fun fact but one scene in this chapter includes Connor in a leather jacket and that's an old HC I posted on tumblr.))

Connor straightened his tie and looked himself in the mirror one more time. He was wearing his dress uniform, more akin to an actual suit than his typical work wear. Where the blue stripe would have been on the arm of his CyberLife uniform, there was instead the symbol for Corporal. Connor took a deep breath, feeling the rush of cool air into his lungs. It was soothing. 

“Are you ready?”

Connor saw Hank standing behind him. He turned and was impressed with how well his father figure was presenting himself. Hank was in his own dress uniform, with a single gold bar to represent his status as a Lieutenant. Connor looked closer.

“Did you get a haircut?”

Hank held his arms out, but not defensively. 

“Anything for you on your big day.”

Connor smiled, but couldn’t help but feel that nagging sense of discomfort. He didn’t know if he deserved this. 

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Nervous about going out there?”

Connor shrugged. He insisted to Captain Fowler that this was unnecessary. He didn’t need this sort of attention, but the mayor (and the city) had thought otherwise. 

He didn’t need a Medal of Valor.

Hank patted his shoulder. “Look, you’ll be fine. Just go out there, smile for the cameras, and stand still when they put the medal on.”

Connor nodded. He could deal with that. 

“I just want this to be done quickly.”

“You and me both.”

Hank wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him to the side of the stage. Soon, Connor would be called up, a speech would be made, and he’d get to leave behind all the fuss over something that he didn’t want.

Something that symbolized everything that Connor had struggled through since he died. 

“You should go Hank, Captain Fowler will want you in the front row.”

Hank rolled his eyes and scoffed, “When have I ever cared about what Fowler has wanted?”

But Connor gave him a look, the one that got him to stop after one drink and to eat vegetables. Hank sighed playfully in defeat. 

“Alright, but if you get nervous, you know where I’ll be.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

Soon, he name was called and Connor walked out and into an onslaught of camera flashes. 

He stood still, shoulders squared, as the medal was draped over his shoulders. People clapped, Hank whistled, and Connor couldn’t help but smile faintly at his father. The mayor stood aside so Connor could walk up to the podium and make a short speech. 

“First, I’d like to thank the city of Detroit for granting me such a high honor.”

While Connor was speaking, he noticed Markus sitting in the crowd. He smiled and Connor, not knowing how to respond, quickly looked away. He kept his speech concise, but sincere. Dignified but heartfelt. Not letting the people know that he hated the spotlight but stood in it to appease them. 

He finished with, “And I look forward to continuing my service to the community.” 

He walked off the stage to another chorus of applause. 

* * *

 

Therapy was an interesting endeavor. 

In some ways (most ways), Markus figured it was something he should have sought out sooner. Talking about the past month was hardly easy, but Markus wanted help.

He didn’t want to live with the guilt, or the shame. 

Even if it came slowly, he wanted his life to improve.

* * *

 

Therapy was… for a lack of a better term, a  _ new _ experience. 

Connor was used to handling his issues by himself. He internalized his insecurity. In the past, he was constantly comparing himself to his more human android peers. He didn’t feel comfortable around them. 

Connor carried the guilt of once being the deviant hunter.

Then he died, came back, and had to deal with  _ grief. _

It was overwhelming. 

But Connor didn’t regret seeking help. Not at all.

* * *

 

Hank cherished the sight before him. 

Connor usually spent the night in his room, doing work, or sometimes walked around the house. 

Not tonight, though.

Connor, in his blue Detroit Police hoodie, had fallen asleep on the couch. The TV was left on and playing some nature documentary. Sumo, the attention hog, was taking up nearly as much space as the android. He was pressed against Connor’s side, trapping one of his arms under his fat body. 

But the  _ best _ thing about the situation was how Connor didn’t look like he fell asleep on purpose. His limbs were splayed out, one leg nearly dangling off the side of the couch. His hair was mussed up, the curls pressed against his face. 

The sight was so normal. (So incredibly  _ human.) _

Hank chuckled, not even upset about how there was no space on the couch for him. He turned off the TV, and decided he’d hit the hay early.

* * *

 

The night air was cool, almost chilly, as Connor walked down the street. But the darkened sky and cold air was soothing. The city was alive, healthy and with coexisting human and android populations. Over a month had passed since Connor fallen from that roof, and more than one week since he received his gaudy Medal of Valor.

He hoped that he was finally fading into a comfortable, blissful obscurity. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Connor blinked and turned to his companion. Markus was staring intently, curiously.

“Nothing, really.”

He was just happy to be out. 

The two of them walked in silence until Connor felt a something wet hit his cheek. He noticed how stormy the sky suddenly looked. 

“Do you want to head back?”

Connor looked at Markus, who had just the faintest hint of apprehension on his face. 

“No, I’m fine.”

He didn’t want this sense of peace to end just yet, and it wasn’t like the rain would make either of them sick. 

But Connor’s eyes still quickly darted around the street, habitually looking for some decent cover. There was a bar, which Connor already spent too much time in with Hank, several stores, and a coffee shop across the street.

“Do you feel like having something some coffee?”

Markus saw where he was staring and nodded.    
  
“If you’d prefer to.”

They quickly made their way to the tiny coffee shop as the rain began to fall harder. Once inside, Connor was delighted by the soft, warm lighting and clean, rustic interior. 

“I’m going to order a drink, do you want anything?”

Markus shrugged, but followed him to stand in line. 

Coffee was one of the few things that Connor would willing consume, being continuously surrounded by massive amounts of it while at work. He ended up ordering an iced coffee- something he’s never had before- and was mildly surprised when Markus ordered a hot chocolate. 

They picked a booth at the back of the coffee shop and sat down quietly. 

Connor didn’t forget how Markus felt about him.

But Markus hadn’t brought it up yet, and he was somewhat thankful for it. They were going to talk sometime in the future, guaranteed. Maybe even some time soon. But for the time being, Connor liked this sense of almost-calm. Despite some of the tension left, the pain was beginning to slowly fade. 

Connor sipped his iced coffee appreciatively.

* * *

 

“Well, in the most fucking roundabout way, you did it.”

Hank raised his glass at Connor.

“Congratulations,  _ Detective _ Anderson.”

Connor raised his own glass, smirking. “Thank you, Hank.”

“You’re finally going to start getting paid the actual wage you should be given.”

Connor rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink. (Whiskey wasn’t bad, honestly, but he’d rather not indulge in it.)

They both knew he didn’t do what he did for the money.

“Maybe one day, I’ll even outrank you.”

It was a joke, but Connor caught Hank staring at him strangely. He was smiling, softer than he usually did. There was… pride?  _ hope?  _ in his eyes. 

“I don’t doubt it, son.”

* * *

 

Markus wasn’t typically one to peruse social media. He was a busy person and tended to let a PR team handle his accounts. What he didn’t expect was to find something far more personal to catch his eye. He truly wished he was alone, or that anyone but North had found the picture first. 

Connor in a leather jacket was not something he needed distracting him at the moment. 

“You should compliment him.”

“Not online!”

Just when Markus thought he knew Connor well, he was cruel enough to surprise the world with that outfit. The photo was even taken at a _ heavy metal  _ concert that he was attending with the Lieutenant. 

Markus did not need this. 

North gave him a sympathetic look.

* * *

 

“Hank?”

“Yeah?”   
  
“I think I need a hobby.”

“The work’s finally getting to you, isn’t it?”   
  
Connor shot Hank a look. The station was quieter than usual, and despite Hank’s words, there was an unusually long lull in their workload. With less to occupy him, Connor was beginning to realize that he was getting kind of bored. 

He wanted something to do, but not exactly work. Something for him, so he could spend his time his way. 

“I can teach you how to how to play cards.”

Connor raised an eyebrow at Hank from across their desks. “Playing cards or counting them?”

Hank shrugged. “I can do both.”

Connor rolled his eyes. 

“Then how about one of those coloring books for adults?”

Connor could tell it was mostly a joke, but it got him thinking. 

* * *

Markus became fairly excited when Connor expressed interest in the arts. 

“It’d be interesting to learn something new.”

So he immediately offered to show Connor the studio in his father’s house. There was also the piano in the living room, if Connor wanted to learn how to play. 

Once they arrived, he noticed the way Connor’s eyes widened at the sight of his father’ home. The inside of the mansion was the same from Markus’ last visit. The two of them went upstairs so Connor could properly meet his dad first. 

Despite still spending most of his time in bed, Markus’ father was in a stable condition. He looked delighted to meet one of Markus’ friends.

He shook Connor’s hand.    
  
“Please, call me Carl. And you are?”   
  
“Connor. Connor Anderson.”

Markus suddenly realized something.

So did his father. His dad blinked, and looked at Connor carefully. Studying him for a moment. Then his face suddenly broke into a smile. 

“Well then, Connor! It’s certainly good to meet you. Now, don’t let this old man get in your way. I’m sure Markus is very happy to have you here.”

Connor, of course, didn’t suspect anything yet. Markus quickly jumped into the conversation. 

_ “Thank you,  _ Dad. We’ll be in the studio if you need us.”

He began to usher Connor out of the room when the other did a double-take. He stopped to stare at the painting in the corner of the room. 

Where the painting Markus made weeks ago was. 

The painting  _ of Connor.  _

Connor himself brought his hands to his face, not taking his eyes off the painting. It was still such a beautiful piece of art, but when compared, paled in comparison to it’s inspiration.

Still in bed, Markus’ father was viciously trying (and failing) to not laugh.

Markus wondered if there was a way to salvage his dignity.

* * *

 

Connor didn’t know when he realized that he liked looking at Markus’ eyes. Both were such soft colors, a gentle green and a soothing blue. 

He liked the look of Markus’ eyes when he smiled or laughed and the corners of his eyes creased. He admired how his eyes sharpened as he thought, becoming deep and intelligent. He enjoyed sketching them, getting a better feel for anatomy and color. 

“Do I have something on my face?”

Connor immediately blinked and looked away for a second, hoping his cheeks weren’t blue.

“No.”

The two of them kept walking down the street. There was a peaceful silence between them. A comfortable one.

* * *

 

The months went by so fast for Connor, but he welcomed the change from the hot summer weather to the cooler autumn climate.

He also welcomed another major change to his life. 

“Are you sure you won’t miss me, Hank?”

“Ha. Only a little.”

Hank and Connor were packing up the last of his belongings. The bedroom Connor had lived in for the past year was growing sparser and sparser. Sumo was watching them from the doorway, barking occasionally. 

“It’ll be nice not hearing you stomping around at two am.”

“But then you’ll have to start walking Sumo yourself again.”

Hank was taping shut a box, but threw Connor a look over his shoulder. 

“As if you won’t visit just to see him.”

Connor laughed.

He laughed more often these days.

“You know me too well.”

It was easy to finish packing up his belongings. They loaded the last of the boxes into the back of Hank’s truck with barely any space to spare. 

“Markus is waiting for you?”

“Yeah, he said he was going to clean up the apartment for us first.”

Connor stopped to give Sumo one last hug and kiss before getting into the car. They drove into the heart of Detroit, parking near the entrance to New Jericho. 

* * *

“Well, that was surprisingly easy.”

Connor flopped down to the couch in his new apartment. Markus sat next to him and leaned against his shoulder.

“I still think the photos would look better in the living room.”

Connor huffed good-naturedly and rolled his eyes. He brought two photos, one of him with Hank and another of him with Sumo.    
  
“But I like them on my nightstand.”   


Markus leaned over and pressed a kiss to Connor’s temple. 

“Alright, then.”

Connor couldn’t help but think that this felt good; having own life, his own apartment. 

And his own partner.

The sky outside was dimming into a brilliant blend of gold and red hues. It’d be night soon. They had a dinner reservation to celebrate Connor moving in. 

But for now, Connor looked down and saw their hands next to each other. He took Markus’ hand into his own and squeezed lightly.

All of this, Markus included, felt right. 

  
  



End file.
